Eleven lines of porch dialogue between two people who know each other; one is sewing on a button. Under sixty words. No metaphor, no turn. A dog watches the thread.
BUTTON, PORCH, TUESDAY You sewed a button on in the porch light. Yeah. I didn't want to go inside yet. The dog was watching you. He was watching the thread. It's Tuesday. I know. Your glasses were on the rail. I could see. It was a big button. Come in when you want. I will. I'm almost done.
Eleven lines, under sixty words. Read it once, slowly.
Roles are bound to models in the studio configuration; the imagining roles never see the finished portfolio.