[seventeen-point-five]
[Action, open to the house and anyone that might wander by]
[Gabriel is at the table in the kitchen, drinking tea and pouring over the morning newspaper. It was Friday. I had taken the first watch. That was where his memories stopped. Now it's Monday morning, and he's reading the paper. Normal things, as if nothing had ever happened. Only a game, just like he had said. He didn't feel smug having known.]
[He's seen the broadcast, an old Twilight Zone program. Is it bullshit, or is it a hint of what was really going on? He's not sure, but there are things in the town that are constants, even if they don't seem to be. The insanity of the Milkman, the ire of the Police Chief Grady, the seemingly daft nature of the Mayor.]
[He has a plan. A shitty one at best, but it's something more than what he's been doing. He sets the newspaper aside, the date still showing so that he can see it easily, a reminder of everything that's happened. On a piece of scratch paper, he makes a list, the pencil he's using in dire need of sharpening. Pasta, orange juice, sugar... He stops to tap the pencil against his chin.]
[Voice, filtered from drones]
Is everyone all right? To those who died, any memories of the time you were gone?
Did Grady say anything at all, or did everyone just... appear?
[Gabriel is at the table in the kitchen, drinking tea and pouring over the morning newspaper. It was Friday. I had taken the first watch. That was where his memories stopped. Now it's Monday morning, and he's reading the paper. Normal things, as if nothing had ever happened. Only a game, just like he had said. He didn't feel smug having known.]
[He's seen the broadcast, an old Twilight Zone program. Is it bullshit, or is it a hint of what was really going on? He's not sure, but there are things in the town that are constants, even if they don't seem to be. The insanity of the Milkman, the ire of the Police Chief Grady, the seemingly daft nature of the Mayor.]
[He has a plan. A shitty one at best, but it's something more than what he's been doing. He sets the newspaper aside, the date still showing so that he can see it easily, a reminder of everything that's happened. On a piece of scratch paper, he makes a list, the pencil he's using in dire need of sharpening. Pasta, orange juice, sugar... He stops to tap the pencil against his chin.]
[Voice, filtered from drones]
Is everyone all right? To those who died, any memories of the time you were gone?
Did Grady say anything at all, or did everyone just... appear?