Untitled Storyboard

Zdrs: 1
How's was you gonna play ball when you were over forty? Sometimes I can't get no sense out of you.
I got good sense, woman. I got sense enough not to let my boy get hurt over playing no sports. You been mothering that boy too much. Worried about if people like him.
Zdrs: 2
Everything that boy do . . . he do for you. He wants you to say, “Good job, son.” That’s all.
Rose, I ain’t got time for that. He’s alive. He’s healthy. He’s got to make his own way. I made mine. Ain’t nobody gonna hold his hand when he get out there in that world.
Zdrs: 3
Times have changed from when you was young, Troy. People change. The world’s changing around you and you can’t even see it.
Woman . . . I do the best I can do. I come in here every Friday. I carry a sack of potatoes and a bucket of lard. You all line up at the door with your hands out. I give you the lint from my pockets. I give you my sweat and my blood. I ain’t got no tears. I done spent them. We go upstairs in that room at night . . . and I fall down on you and try to blast a hole into forever. I get up Monday morning . . . find my lunch on the table. I go out. Make my way. Find my strength to carry me through to the next Friday. That’s all I got, Rose. That’s all I got to give. I can’t give nothing else!

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