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EXT. COTTON FIELD – ALABAMA – DAY – 1799 The shot opens on a VAST, SUN-BLEACHED COTTON FIELD. The sun is a white, scorching smear. Heat shimmers warp the horizon. SOUND: A deafening, oppressive symphony of INSECT HUM AND CRICKET CHIRPS. The camera begins a SLOW, STEADY PUSH forward over the field. As the push continues, it isolates NESS (25) from the other blurred, bent figures. We see her entire body in a rhythmic, mechanical motion: bend, pluck, straighten. The camera swoops down smoothly to an EXTREME CLOSE-UP ON HER HANDS. Black, soil-embedded fingers with ragged nails pluck a sharp cotton boll. Cotton fibers catch on cracked skin. SOUND amplifies: the SNAP of the boll, the RUSTLE of dry leaves. VOICEOVER (NESS) begins, internal, weary: My first memory of love was my mother's hands. The way they held me close, as if closeness could keep the world away.

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EXT. COTTON FIELD – ALABAMA – DAY – 1799 The shot opens on a VAST, SUN-BLEACHED COTTON FIELD. The sun is a white, sco...

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