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My upstairs neighbor whispers into his floor vents.  I don't think he knows that anyone can hear him, but he does it every day and when I'm home, I sit and listen to his secrets.

His name is Jerome Stahl, which I got from the mailboxes in the lobby, but the rest of his life I've been getting from him.  When Jerome feels bad, he describes why and wishes for help to feel better.  When Jerome feels guilty, he agonizes over his failure and begs forgiveness.  When Jerome feels overwhelmed, he lists his undone to-dos and pleads for strength.  When Jerome wallows in self-pity, when people are rude to him, when he was embarrassed, I hear it all, whispered into the vent that opens into my living room.  When Jerome has naughty thoughts, I get those, too, but I try not to listen, even though he uses euphemisms a seven year old might use.  Recently, I've been getting worried for him.

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Script pitch: Love story about a shy man who suddenly finds himself reaching old age without a companion.

Lead role: Gene Wilder

Opening: An older man (mid-70s) sits alone in his rather large, neat, beach-front cottage home in Connecticut.  We see him go about his morning, making himself tea, doing the puzzle in the paper, and painting in his home studio.  We finally see him looking in his calendar.  Forthcoming are a few doctor's appointments and one art opening that looks important.  The man looks rather disappointed that he doesn't have a more full social calendar.  He makes a decision and grabs his "little black book".  The entries are old, and many are crossed off with notes like "married", "moved to California", and "deceased".