The room’s dead silent except for the TV noise, low, coming from the hall. Everyone’s standing around the dirty black-oil blanket draped over the broken coffee table, splinters everywhere, but nobody’s saying anything. It’s ten minutes before anyone notices the back door is open. Nobody’s moving, not at all, but someone sighs, and it’s like a catalyst, a signal that now’s the time, and Kevin who’s home alone while his parents are out of town clears his throat and says, “I guess we should move it? Or… what?”

====(and then we cut it up!)

“Who’s home alone? While his parents are out of town?” He takes a deep breath and says, “I guess we need to move it?” – but nobody does. Kevin is dirty. He feels dirty. He is a black-oil blanket draped over the broken coffee table, but nobody would tell him that. It’s ten minutes before anyone notices the back door is open, and the room’s dead silent except for TV noise coming from the the hall. Everyone’s standing semi-circle around each other. Then come the sighs.