(beat)

Rehabilitated? That's a bullshit word, so you just go on ahead and stamp that form there, sonny, and stop wasting my damn time. Truth is, I don't give a shit.

The parole board just stares. Red sits drumming his fingers.

CLOSEUP -- PAROLE FORM

A big rubber stamp SLAMS down -- and lifts away to reveal the word "APPROVED" in red ink.

EXT -- SHAWSHANK PRISON -- DAY

TWO SHORT SIREN BLASTS herald the opening of the main gate. It swings hugely open, revealing Red standing in his cheap suit, carrying a cheap bag, wearing a cheap hat. He walks out, still looking stunned.

INT -- BUS -- DAY

Red rides the bus, clutching the seat before him, gripped by terror of speed and motion.

EXT -- BREWSTER HOTEL -- LATE AFTERNOON

Red arrives at the Brewster, three stories high and even less to look at than it used to be.

INT -- BREWSTER -- LATE DAY

A BLACK WOMAN leads Red up the stairs toward the top floor.

INT -- RED'S ROOM -- LATE DAY

Small, old, dingy. An arched window with a view of Congress Street. Traffic noise floats up. Red enters and pauses, staring up at the ceiling beam. Carved into the wood are the words: "Brooks Hatlen was here."

INT -- FOODWAY MARKET -- DAY

Loud. Jangling with PEOPLE and NOISE. We find Red bagging groceries. Registers are humming, kids are shrieking. Red calls to the STORE MANAGER:

RED

Sir? Restroom break sir?

MANAGER

(motions him over)

You don't need to ask me every time you go take a piss. Just go. Understand?

INT -- EMPLOYEE RESTROOM -- DAY

Red steps to the urinal, stares at himself in the wall mirror.

RED (V.O.)

Thirty years I've been asking permission to piss. I can't squeeze a drop without say-so.

A strange east Indian guitar-whine begins. The Beatles. George Harrison's "Within You Without You…"

EXT -- STREET -- DAY

…which carries through as Red walks. People and traffic. He keeps looking at the women. An alien species.

RED (V.O.)

Women, too, that's the other thing. I forgot they were half the human race. There's women everywhere, every shape and size. I find myself semi-hard most of the time, cursing myself for a dirty old man.

TWO YOUNG WOMEN stroll by in cut-offs and t-shirts.

RED (V.O.)

Not a brassiere to be seen, nipples poking out at the world. Jeezus, pleeze-us. Back in my day, a woman out in public like that would have been arrested and given a sanity hearing.

EXT -- PARK -- DUSK

Red finds the park filled with HIPPIES. Hanging out. Happening. Here's the source of the music: a radio. A HIPPIE GIRL gyrates to the Beatles, stoned, in her own world.

RED (V.O.)

They're calling this the Summer of Love. Summer of Loonies, you ask me.

INT -- PAROLE OFFICE -- DAY

Red sits across from his PAROLE OFFICER. The P.O. is filling out his report.

P.O.

You staying out of the bars, Red?