Putting this below a read more because this is not a happy film and yeah it gets violent, but I wrote out the scenes that correspond to the gifs. All very short and punchy and largely more based on seeing than feeling because I wanted them to feel like actual movie scenes taken out of the context of the larger narrative although I had a blast with symbolism like the gun and Lucky's green dress and I think there's enough here that you can get the general storyline eventhough the moments are presented out of order as they're part of a Timestamp Roulette type format.
"You really shouldn't be doing that." J.O. absently gestures towards the sink with the oily rag he'd been using to clean his gun. A splotch of oil flies free and lands squarely in the middle of the floor.
"Dishes have to be done." Lucky turns over her shoulder to glare at him just as a loud clap of thunder sounds outside the kitchen window. Her hands remain submerged in the soapy, sink water although she does look at the oil stain with disgust.
Before either of them can say anything, the bolt of lightning streaks the sky, dangerously close and Lucky flinches involuntarily squeezing the glass cup in her hand hard enough for it to shatter under the water, slicing into her hand as it does so.
Blood begins to pool to the surface of the sink, staining the dishwater red.
Lucky looks down before swearing, "God damnit!"
Lucky's body lies motionless on the concrete floor and J.O. can't help but notice how the red of the blood from the wound in her chest contrasts with the bright green of the dress she is wearing. The one she'd thought was hideous but had chosen to wear for their date because he'd said it was beautiful.
He can't think of this thing as Lucky anymore though, because the police will never understand that it was an accident. And they'll never understand that the other death, the one Lucky had caused was an accident too. And in doing so they'll try to deny that she was a good person.
Running his finger along the blade of the table saw, J.O. suddenly knows exactly what he has to do.
J.O. just has enough clarity to open the door of the truck before his legs suddenly give way causing him to fall to the ground where he finds himself only able to curl up into a ball.
That's when the sobbing starts. "Oh God! She's dead! She's dead!" Repeating the phrase over and over again is the only way to remind himself that it's real.
Lucky. Dead. Inside of the truck. He'd never intended for the gun to go off, and maybe he shouldn't have put it on the console. Maybe they shouldn't have tried to crawl into the backseat like lovesick teenagers, but he'd been so sure safety was on.
One moment she'd been laughing, and then the noise had been deafening and there had only been enough time for her to look at him in shock and touch the hole in her chest before the light had left her eyes.
"You're not coming inside tonight?" Lucky pauses at the door to the house, almost looking disappointed.
"If I don't finish that table tonight, we won't get the money…" J.O. trails off.
"So you're going to end up sleeping in your truck outside the workshop." Lucky chews her lip and kicks at the bottom step before turning to walk towards the door.
J.O. has almost made it to the end of the walkway when her voice stops him, calling out his full name in the way that she does to tease him since she knows he hates it.
"Yeah?" J.O. turns around to look at her standing in the porchlight.
"Lucky's been trouble lately."
J.O. freezes and turns to glare at Carl as the younger man obliviously continues to cut the piece of wood on the table saw. There's no reason he should be saying that, unless he somehow knows about Norma Roberts. "She ain't trouble, she's my wife!"
Carl turns to look at him, shocked by the sudden venom in his voice. "Troubled, like depressed I mean. It seems like she used to be a lot happier. That's all I meant by that."
"Yeah, well we're all struggling." J.O. leans against a wall as he responds.
Lucky's eyes land on the dress in the store window and she wrinkles her nose in disgust. "Oh, that does not look good at all…not even on the mannequin."
J.O. squeezes her hand tightly before playfully responding, "I don't know, it's not easy being green…but it would look good on you."
"You're quoting Kermit to try to get me to wear a dress," Lucky snorts in response.
Lucky turns and leans over to kiss him. "Only cause you're cute when you get corny."
"It wasn't an accident," Lucky suddenly blurts out while standing unnaturally rigidly against the wall of the living room.
"What wasn't an accident?" J.O. looks up from where he's been sitting on the floor, trying to fix the wobbly leg of a chair.
"I was going to take the money again, this time to fix your engine. I don't know what I was thinking except I thought she was asleep and then she caught me. I tried to push past her and she fell and I told the paramedics I'd found her like that when I'd came in and I just…I killed an old woman J.O. and now I have to live with that."
The envelope is unmarked with no return address and somehow this doesn't set off alarm bells in Lucky's mind. It doesn't look like junk mail, but there isn't really anything they'd be expecting that would come in that kind of package.
The other mail gets tossed onto the table and Lucky debates throwing this last ominous envelope into the trash before curiosity finally gets the better of her and she retrieves a letter opener from the junk drawer.
"This is stupid," Lucky tells herself as the opener glides effortlessly through the envelope.
Seconds later she pulls the contents out and her mood immediately changes as she reads the information at the top of the page. Autopsy Report. Decedent: Norma Roberts
Freezing with one hand on her chest, Lucky drops the paper onto the floor as a chill goes down her spine.
The money is just lying there in the top drawer of Norma's dresser as if that isn't an obvious place to store it.
Lucky looks at it for a moment, suddenly tempted. Why does the old woman really need all of that money? But no, it would be completely unethical even if J.O. does need surgery on that abscessed tooth. They can find the money elsewhere, this isn't hers to take.
"You bitch, where is my sweater!" Norma's voice sounds from the kitchen shrilly unpleasant and ungrateful and she really has no right to call Lucky by such vulgar names.
That's enough to make up Lucky's mind. There's so much money just sitting there in the drawer that there's no way Norma will miss the amount Lucky needs, and the old woman is forgetful, and without any family members, and she never goes out anywhere so it really must be a money hoarding situation.
Before she can change her mind, Lucky stuffs the money into her purse before grabbing the purple floral cardigan out of the drawer and plastering on a fake smile as she walks out of the room.
"Your sweater is right here. I'm sorry for leaving you cold for so long."
"You're not a monster. You're not a monster." Lucky tells herself over and over again as she watches the cars go by, even as her hands shake.
She'd never intended to kill someone, not even Norma despite the horrific verbal abuse the woman had put her through daily. And it had never been about that. She's not even sure it had been about the money.
"She caught you, and you reacted in shock. She was supposed to be asleep. You're not a monster."
