Long Story Short Productions
Long Story Short Productions
Episode 8 "Disasterpiece" - Credits
Written by Sarah Shachat.
Directed by Zach Valenti
Script Editing by David K. Barnes.
Performance by Ceci Lynn-Jacobs as Jennifer Morgan.
Original Music by Alan Rodi.
Sound Design by Zach Valenti.
Produced by Sarah Shachat, Zach Valenti, and Gabriel Urbina,
along with Angel Acevedo, Jenn Schneider, and Amy Tanguay.
Episode 8 - "Disasterpiece" - Transcript
Announcer: This episode contains 
[Unseen opening credits music plays.]
Announcer: Long Story Short Productions presents... Unseen.
[Unseen Theme continues playing.]
Announcer: Episode Eight. Disasterpiece by Sarah Shachat.
[The sound of rain outside of an apartment window. Inside, we hear a woman EXHALE.]
JENNIFER: Okay. Okay, okay, okay... Let’s do this. I can do this.
[A small BEAT.]
JENNIFER: I can do this.
JENNIFER: My name is Jennifer Morgan. I am alone in my apartment, number six- bee. It’s December fourteenth, eight fifty-seven AM, and it just started raining. Not everywhere in the world... not even everywhere in North America. But here? On Columbia Street overlooking Hinge Park? It’s raining. It will probably rain all day.
[She takes another deep breath]
JENNIFER: There is a clock sitting on the mantel above my fireplace. It’s unusual. An antique. It is a round clock, with Arabic numerals on its face, and in Art Deco style. The polished body is made of mahogany. The face is also mahogany, which sets off the gold of the numerals. It has two hands, and they are gold and pointed like arrowheads. And when they overlap, as they’re going to in just a moment when the clock strikes nine, it looks a little like the Chrysler Building. Now, you know this is a lie - there isn’t really a clock. There’s never been a clock - but some part of you also knows better. There is also absolutely a clock on the mantel. How did it get there? Doesn’t matter. Maybe you forgot about the day you found it in an old box from your old house. Maybe somebody left it here, and you’re only just noticing. It doesn’t matter either way. It’s there. You can see it. You can hear it. And with each passing second the part of your mind that remembers any semblance of a world where there isn’t a clock on the mantel grows dimmer... and more distant... until the only thing you can even hear... is the sound of nine AM.
[A small BEAT]
JENNIFER: I said... The sound of nine AM.
[A small BEAT]
JENNIFER: The sound of nine AM? Please?
[A small BEAT]
JENNIFER: The sound of a gentleman’s nine AM at actually nine oh two?
[Outside, we hear a rumble of thunder]
JENNIFER: Yep... Still no clock. Some illusionist I’ve turned out to be. I mean, not even the outline of a clock. [CENSORED].
[On that last word, there's a pleasant thrumming, magical sound that obscures what, exactly, she said].
JENNIFER: What the [CENSORED]?
[Another burst of magical censorship]
JENNIFER: Oh. Okay. Um... [CENSORED]?
[Another burst of magical censorship]
JENNIFER: Wow. Right. Um, I’m pretty sure [CENSOR] is gonna - yeah.
[Another burst of magical censorship]
JENNIFER: Let’s see. [CENSORED]? [CENSORED]? [CENSORED]? [CENSORED]? [CENSORED]? [CENSORED]?
[Bursts of magical censorship under all of these]
JENNIFER: Wow. Wow. It ever covers other languages.
[She walks over to a magical device that whirrs mechanically].
JENNIFER: I’d forgotten that I’d set you to start running today, you enchanted language-sanitizing [CENSORED]. Well, at least you’re doing what you’re supposed to be doing. Little buzzkill.
[She sets the device back down]
JENNIFER: So. Everything that’s magic in the apartment is working fine. It’s just my magic that apparently [CENSORED]... stinks bad?
JENNIFER: Awesome. Just great. All right. All right. We will deal with the slow-rolling nervous breakdown that is keeping me from performing a simple glamour... later.
[There's another rumble of thunder and the soothing noise of the rain slowly fades out.]
[We then hear the sound a typewriter being clacking away as someone types.]
JENNIFER: Dear Amy...
[Music begins under the following:]
JENNIFER: First thing’s first: I’m so excited to see you, and to get to know you. There’s so much I want to find out. Like, do you prefer Amy or Amelia? Because your dad always called you “Amy” but I know that sometimes people prefer their full name instead of their parent-assigned nickname. I don’t want to make assumptions and then years down the line find out you actually preferred... I don’t know, Mimi, or A.J. since your middle is Jane. That would be weird. This is weird, isn’t it?
[Both the typing and the music stop. A piece of paper is crumbled up and thrown away.]
[The typing and the same piece of music resume].
JENNIFER: Dear Amy. It’s been a long time since we last met. But we have met. It was about six years ago now, I think, when I was visiting your dad. You were very little. You’d just turned three. But even then I really hoped that one day we’d get to hang out more and become friends. Because it was clear that, well... You’re kind of amazing.
[Slowly, the typing fades out over the following:]
JENNIFER: I know that might be a little weird to hear, given I’m - I was - well, I know your parents’ friends don’t usually seem that cool. But, in my defense, I’ve found that most grownups just suffer from a depressing lack of adventure in their life, you know? They get caught up in little projects that they think are important, and they stop finding the time for the things life that are actually incredible. Like ice cream. And dinosaurs. And staying up way too late on a Wednesday night And... making new friends. But... I like all of those things. And every time I’ve seen a photo of you and your dad doing something, I’ve always thought, “Man, I would be so lucky to be friends with Amy. She seems like the coolest.” And guess what? Lucky me, I’m going to get to take care of you. At least for a little while. And so, in the interest of... you know, the aforementioned Project Friendship, I wanted to tell you a little about myself.
JENNIFER (as an afterthought): Oh, um, aforementioned just means something that I talked about earlier. Afore. It’s an old time-y of saying before. English is... weird. But um, I know when I was your age, I had some grown up friends who treated me like I was just a little shorter than them, not younger. And - and they never talked down to me, which I still think was pretty cool. But, it means I use a bunch of weird, old time-y words sometimes.
JENNIFER (back to business): Really, I like a lot of old things. Case in point, I’m actually typing this letter up in an Underwood Champion. Which is a kind of typewriter... which you also probably have no idea what that is either. It’s... an old machine, that people used to use to quickly generate a large amounts of noise. It also had a side effect of producing printed pages of writing. I guess you’re starting to realize that I don’t just like dinosaurs, I’m also a little bit of a dinosaur myself. Mine are the ways of the dinosaur. Anyway...
[She chuckles, nervously. The music fades]
JENNIFER: My name is Jennifer. Jennifer Morgan. Although different people call me different things. For some of the people I work with, I’m Miss Morgan. Which I still haven’t gotten used to and I don’t really like. But it’s what people do. Some of my friends call me Jenny. Your dad and I had this classmate who tried calling me Jay once. Um. I am very glad that that one did not stick. As for you... you can call me... whatever you want, I suppose. If you feel like it... I guess... Mom... Works?
[A long, silent BEAT.]
[Then we hear the CLICK of a pen and the sound of something on a piece of paper being CROSSED OUT.]
JENNIFER (under her breath): God...
[Another moment of silence and then the TYPING resumes over the following:]
JENNIFER: As for you, Amy, you can call me whatever you would like to. You could even call me... Jenn. Nobody calls me Jenn, so it could be our thing, you know? If you want. Okay, so, some basics about me. I’m from Michigan, originally, but now I live in this awesome, magical city called... Vancouver. I came out here about four years ago? Wow. Four years ago. Yeah, that was my medium-dramatic move the year I turned thirty. I decided the person I was dating was not someone I needed to be dating. Which... was a sad thing. But not a bad thing. In the end. And, because I hear tell that you are pretty aces at math, this means you’ve probably already guessed how old I am. I’m thirty four. I’m thirty four.
[A moment, then she continues with forced positivity. Music fades in over the following:]
JENNIFER: Fifteen years of which I have spent as a magician. Like your dad. Well, not exactly. We both - well, I do magic for my work, too, but it’s different. I’ve traveled a bunch, which I love. I think my three favorite places I’ve visited for work are... Hmm. Venice, Singapore, and... the underwater city of Selindaro, out in the Atlantic. I think Singapore was my favorite, out of the three, though. Oh, hold on. I’m doing this out of order, slightly. Um... I guess, in the Seen World I’m thought of as an architect. And it’s... close enough to the truth. But in the Unseen World, I’m known as a draftswoman. It’s basically...
[She pauses, thinking]
JENNIFER: Okay, think of it this way. Your dad had magic. He could make things move, or change them, right? That’s called Persuasion. I have... a bit of that. Just a touch. Enough to make my life a little bit easier, but... not much more than that. Your dad was always way better at it than I was. What I was always better at than him, though, is this other kind of magic. It’s called glamourie and it’s... it’s kind of about changing the way the world sees things. Say I tell you to picture a... A snowman. Are you watching closely?
[There's another rumble of thunder, and then, slowly, over the following, the faint sounds of snow and jingle bells]
JENNIFER: You see it, right? You see the white white snow, the dark dark coal button eyes, the carrot nose. Maybe a funny red scarf and a hat, if he’s a fancy snowman? But now... let’s say we wanted the snowman to be made out of purple snow, because - because... that sounds funny, I guess. You can hold that image in your mind: purple snow, purple snow, purple snow. And if you think about it long enough, and you pretend hard enough... If you make the purple so real in your head that it has to be real everywhere? Then, all of a sudden...
[There's a crunch of packed snow]
JENNIFER: ...you have a purple snowman. And it’s kinda funny... you sort of know that the snow is really white, underneath. It’s still there. But all the people who aren’t thinking about it as hard as you are? They see what you want them to see. It’s like magic. And - what’s really cool is - you don’t even need there to be any snow at all. If you close your eyes, and really imagine that purple snowman, you can make it appear out of nothing. Out of thin air. That’s glamourie. That’s what I do. Fun, right?
[The music ends]
JENNIFER (muttered): What else... What else...
JENNIFER: Ah! Right! This is very important. Aside from my Friendship Project for the two of us, there is an equally important mission that awaits you when you get here. See, I’ve lived by myself for the past little while now. First in another apartment, now in this one. And this one... It’s so nice, Amy. It’s the nicest place I’ve ever lived. But there is a neighbor the floor below m-
[There's an odd CLACK of the typewriter and then a quiet beat]
JENNIFER: - He lives the floor below us. His name is Josh and he has the most sensitive hearing on the planet, even though every time I see him, he’s wearing headphones! So, like, how much is me playing Pandora through my TV when I work from home really bothering you, dude?! Anyway, he is the worst. He is The Enemy. And I hope you will join me in my crusade to keep him up at all hours of the night -
[Underneath, we hear some impressionistic music:]
JENNIFER: - because at this point I have rage- curated several dance party playlists I am just waiting to break out. Or - well. That’s not entirely true. I definitely have some good dance party playlists if you like. I mean, well - they’re decent. But... Mostly when Josh bangs on the ceiling or asks me to turn my TV down... I do it and leave it at that. I - I guess I thought revenge might make me sound... Fun? It’s just, I really want you to have fun here. I want to be, like, this cool Godmother who’s awesome to live with - and Amy, really, the sky’s the limit. As far as I’m concerned, you can have ice cream for dinner every day and stay up as late as you want. If you have so much as a tiny cough, you can stay home from school, I promise. Who needs school when you’ve already learned to see past the Caul at age six? I mean, [CENSORED], kid.
[Again, there's a THRUM of magic censoring what she says]
JENNIFER (muttered): Oh boy. This is gonna take some getting used to.
[There's a moment, and then the typing sounds begin again]
JENNIFER: What I mean to say is: Well done, Amy. Me and your dad - us first- generation magicians - took a lot longer than you have. I was almost eighteen when I picked up on the first glimmers of magic, and now I’m... well, I’m me. You have such a head start. You’re going to be amazing. Again, this is a key part of why I’m making our Friendship Project such a priority. The Extreme Coolness of you.
[For a moment, she sits and listens to the rain]
JENNIFER: But I know I can’t just -
[She snaps her fingers]
JENNIFER: - Make myself cool. They haven’t invented that kind of magic yet. And I also know that... there will be consequences if I lie to you. About me. Or about... Big, important, life things. I want you to know I am being very honest about how annoying Downstairs Josh is, though. He’s just the worst. But, as for the rest of it? Well, I want to try to catch myself when I fudge the truth, with you. Because I know that’s not something friends are supposed to do. That was one the thing about your dad. He was an amazing friend. He -
[She cuts herself off]
JENNIFER: Oh, I’m sorry. I’m sorry, Amy. I was a lot older than you when my dad... but I hated when people talked down to me about how great he was. How they made a point of, like, imparting this gift to me, when all it did was make my insides hurt. I mean, it’s one thing when he comes up, you know? A movie that he liked is on TV, or song he loved comes on shuffle, or something. It seems absolutely impossible right after someone you love passes, I know. But the world does tap you on the shoulder and give you back your happy memories, more often than you’d think... once you’re ready to see them. It’s actually kind of sublime. But I didn’t - I didn’t understand, especially right after, how some people... How the pain of grief is a way of forcing the people we love to stay present. It took a long time for me to realize those old friends weren’t saying those nice things about my dad because they wanted to comfort me. It was about them. Always. And when you get here? I promise, I gonna try my best to make this about you.
[There's a long moment of silence]
JENNIFER (muttered): I don’t know. I don’t know if that part should go in.
[We hear her unload the typewriter and put a new page into it. Typing and music begins under the following:]
JENNIFER (quick and low): Althooough, if I can make it about me for just a quick second?
JENNIFER: Oh man, Amy. Your dad. We met while we were in school. I was twenty and he was twenty-two. He hadn’t discovered magic was real until he was a freshman in college, so he’d started at the academy a little later than most of us. But you’d never have known it for how - the sheer enthusiasm he brought to everything. I remember, they make all the second years go through these tests for all the different kinds of magic. Just to see what you’re drawn to: Ice cream or dinosaurs. When they tested us for glamourie, I think your dad was in there for all of four seconds before the instructor went, “Thank you, next!” But he wasn’t even disappointed. He turned around and gave me this big old smile and this funny little shrug, like, “Whaddya gonna do?”
JENNIFER: He was brilliant at Persuasion, but he couldn’t make a glamour stick to save his life.
[There's another rumble of thunder outside]
JENNIFER: It’s no knock on him, though. Not a lot of humans are able to do glamourie. Not because of any good reason, really. It’s like... how some people are built to be good at ballet and some people are built to be good at basketball. You need great footwork for both, but... how you dance is different. Almost all of my instructors in school were fae. I remember walking into that test my second year... The professor had these big, violet eyes and it looked like they could hold the whole world. And it was like, yeah, I get why she has a knack.
[There's another moment of silence]
JENNIFER: She asked me to make a clock appear out of thin air and I nearly melted from fright.
JENNIFER (imitating her professor's voice): “Could you please make this air look like a clock? Set the hour hand to three, if possible.”
JENNIFER (normal voice): I had no clue. Started to panic just a wee little bit. But, she calmed me down and I took some deep breaths and - and she told me to accept the world around me. The cool floor under my feet. That it was Monday. That the window was open but not much air was getting in. That my name was Jennifer Morgan. And that... there was a clock. It was there. If I hadn’t noticed it before, that was all right. I was noticing it now.
[We faintly begin to hear the sounds of a ticking clock]
JENNIFER: And you know what’s crazy? It kinda worked. I couldn’t make a full clock, but I managed to make this... silhouette appear. Just enough to kinda make out the numbers and the clock hands. And there was the slightest hint of a ticking sound. Which, apparently, was very good for a first timer.
[The ticking and the music fades over the following]
JENNIFER: Most people who do glamourie focus on little things. You know, they’ll change the way someone looks. Or they’ll make something go invisible. But I’ve always liked to think big. I like to think about whole houses where every window was enchanted to have a different view. I like to think about long corridors that make it look like you’re walking over the night sky. I like to think about rooms where it looks like the walls go out forever, and you’re not in a room at all. You’re at a beach... and with every crashing wave, you can feel the ocean spray...
[Faintly, we do hear the crash of waves on a beach.]
[It fades, and music fades in over the following:]
JENNIFER: That’s what being a draftswoman means. We’re hired to make impossible buildings happen. For parties, or important events. I’ve made castles look, feel, and taste like they were made out of chocolate. I’ve made staircases that seem to go on forever. One time I made every mirror in a house refuse to reflect anyone who was in front of them, no matter what they did. That was fun. It’s... always temporary. I think the longest I’ve made a glamour last is a week? Or - no, ten days. The Olympics were crazy. And I drank way too much caffeine.
[She laughs a little]
JENNIFER: It’s not a bad thing. That glamours burn bright and then fade. Just sometimes a sad thing. They’re a little story we tell, even and especially when we know they’re not real. That doesn’t matter, because they still turn into memories. And if we’re - Hmm.
[We hear her take the piece of paper out of the typewriter and crumple it up. She reloads the typewriter with a fresh page.]
[There's a moment of silence.].
JENNIFER: When I was little, before I knew about magic, I did believe in magic. I thought I had a magic flashlight. Because, and I know this might damage Project Friendship, but: I was the kind of kid who thought reading under the covers after bed time was an edgy act of rebellion. And also, I just loved it too much stop for something as silly as... time.
[There's a CLICK of a flashlight turning on and it HUMS over the following:]
JENNIFER: And my flashlight? It got the mission. It came to play. I had gamed out how exactly I was going to sneak into my parents’ room, to the dresser where they kept the batteries, whenever it finally ran out. But it never did. That is, of course, a total lie. The flashlight obviously needed new batteries. Probably a lot of them. It only occurred to me, much later, that my parents wanted me to love reading, and on my terms. So they replaced the batteries and just never told me they knew I was staying up late. Magic, right?
[The sound of the light FLICKERS slightly]
JENNIFER: Of course, that kind of magic cuts both ways. Because it’s built on a lie. Eventually... The glamour on your parents fades. There’s this part that’s been all you can see - they love me, they love me, they love me - and then you start to see all the other pieces. All the messy, thorny bits they can’t iron out. Sometimes it’s just a little slip - you catch them saying what you thought was a bad word. Sometimes it’s bigger than that.
[The music ends. There's a moment of silence and Jennifer LAUGHS uneasily].
JENNIFER: Whatever it is... Kind of the best you can hope for is, is that there’s still room to be friends. After. And I’ll say this for your dad, Amy. I knew him for thirteen years, and he never, ever made me angry, or sad, or shut out. He never made me feel disappointed in him. Do you have any idea how rare that is? I can only imagine how great of a dad he was to you. And I can promise you two would’ve been amazing friends when you got older. I want to be that kind of friend to you, too. And oh, oh I had plans.
[She laughs, DARKLY. Music starts to fade in over the following:]
JENNIFER: I mean, not to make this about me, again, but I’m kind of a bad... Mothball trucker... In the world of glamour building. So, when I realized that I would be taking care of you... when it sunk in - right, you’re next in the line of succession, Morgan, time to Godmother it up - I panicked. Just, pure, white hot panic. Because I was - I am going to get everything about this wrong. But the one thing I knew I could nail? That I could do for sure? I knew that this kid was going to have the most amazing bedroom in the world. I was gonna clear out my office and fill it to the rafters with whatever brought her joy. She was gonna have a space that was safe and whole, and hers. This kid’s room was going to be my masterpiece. Like... some days, it’s gonna look like a beach. Other days? A log cabin, up on a mountain-top, somewhere charming and beautiful and cozy. Then a zeppelin in the clouds. A princess’s castle tower. If she’s into reading? A gigantic library on a giant turtle that travels the high seas. If she wants to have the bedroom from her old house? Boom. It’s there. Identical. Whatever she wants, I would lie and lie and twist the world until every detail was perfect. In every other regard, I was going to ruin this beautiful, amazing child that I’d been entrusted with, but her bedroom? Her bedroom was going to be the best bedroom imaginable.
JENNIFER: And I can’t even do that for you, Amy. I’ve been trying. And just... Eating it. Forget masterpiece, more like... disasterpiece. So I decided to go back to basics. I’m back to trying to make a clock appear from thin air. I’ve done it thousands of times. Once for an exam, I had to do it a hundred different ways, and have the clock be slightly different every time. Nightmare. Or so I thought. Because this is my real nightmare. I go through... I guess I kind of think of it like a litany-
JENNIFER (catching herself): Which, ah, litany just sort of means... Like, a familiar list, I guess? It’s a set of instructions, or the lyrics to Mambo Number Five, or - and I realizing as I’m saying that, that you probably don’t know that song - or... or it’s prayers that means something to you.
JENNIFER (back to normal): Anyway, I go through it. My name is Jennifer Morgan. I’m sitting in my apartment in Vancouver. I kind of want to microwave a burrito but I’m not going to. In this room, there is a mantelpiece above a fake fireplace. But I don’t care that it’s fake because this is still the nicest apartment I’ve ever had.
JENNIFER: And then I’ll start talking about the clock. About the face, how the hands move, the way it hits the light... But all I’m thinking is... I can’t do this, Paul. I can’t imagine a world that you’re not a part of. I cannot fathom seeing something stupid on Twitter and not texting you about it. I cannot conceive of doing a project that I don’t get to complain about endlessly to you, or seeing Persuasion magic that I can’t get your take on. And - and not only do you have the gall to not be here anymore! You had the temerity to think that I should be the one to take care of your daughter?! [CENSORED] you, man
[The music ends. There's a long moment of quiet, and then Jennifer removes the page from the typewriter]
JENNIFER (to herself): Ooookay, that part’s definitely not going in.
[She collects herself while, outside, we hear the rain still falling. Jennifer takes a moment to leaf through the pages she's written.]
JENNIFER (to herself): Okay. Um. Downstairs Josh. Project Friendship. The Extreme Coolness of Amy.
JENNIFER (even lower): I want to make it about you.
JENNIFER (normal volume): Let’s - let’s start again... here.
[We hear her write something and then load a new page into the typewriter. There's a DING! as she readies the typewriter. Then, she begins and typing sounds fade over the following:]
JENNIFER: I wanted to write you a letter, Amy, so that you could get to know a little bit more about me. So that maybe we’d be closer to friends when you get here next week. And there’s lots of things I could say about me. I like really hot baths when it’s very cold outside. I like big, floofy dogs, the kind that look absolutely ridiculous but they have no idea. I love having pancakes for dinner and pizza for breakfast. But I think the most important thing for you to know is that... I’m very scared. I’m sad, and I can’t stop thinking about how pointless the accident was, how unfair. And I’m so, so scared about what us living together is going to be like. I’m sure you are, too. I’m also sure I have no idea just how scared you are.
[Music fades in over the following:]
JENNIFER: The one thing I bring to the table is that I’ve been where you are right now. Not exactly where you are. Last time I lost someone I didn’t also suddenly lose the ability to do the thing I’m good at... But I know this dark, awful cave we’re both in. It sucks. It just does. It will for a long time. But I am going to try my very best to make it at least look like a nice apartment in Vancouver. But for that to happen, I think we’re both going to have to lie to each other. Probably a lot. Because last time? Lies were how I got through it. Lies like “You’ll get your memories back when you’re ready to see them.” Lies like “One day, you’ll be ready.” They are absolutely lies. Until they aren’t. So, here are some lies to get us started.
[She takes a breath]
JENNIFER: It’s going to be okay. I am going to take care of you, Amy. I am going to make sure you never, ever forget how loved you are. See, if you work really hard at it... if you put in the time... Then sometimes, some lies can turn into truths. Maybe not forever. But long enough to get you to the next point. And if you can’t get there? Well, that’s what friends are for. That, and for tormenting their terrible downstairs neighbors; I’ve come around on the whole Josh Crusade, I think we should absolutely do it.
[Typing sounds begin to fade in over the following:]
JENNIFER: I can’t wait to see you. I can’t wait to see you every day. And I feel so lucky to get to be here for you. I love you. Jenn.
[There's a final CLACK from the typewriter as Jennifer finishes writing the letter.]
[For a moment, we hear the patter of rain on the windows. It slows, and then stops completely.]
JENNIFER: Did the rain just stop?
[She walks over to the window to investigate].
JENNIFER: Huh. It stopped. [CENSORED]-A.
[There's the same thrum of magical energy over part of what she said. She laughs].
JENNIFER: Okay. Okay, we’ll try it again.
[She walks into the center of the room and takes a deep breath].
JENNIFER: My name is Jennifer Morgan. I am alone in the apartment I now share with Amy Abrams. We live in a building on Columbia Street, opposite Hinge Park. I have lived here for two and a half years, but Amy is new. I want to take her to the park, and to Science World, and to let her skip school so we can ride the ferry to Seattle. I want to teach her Persuasion and watch her get better at it than I am. It is eight fifty eight PM on Monday, December fourteenth. I’m not wearing socks, but my feet aren’t cold yet. I miss Paul Abrams, very much. I miss my dad. Always. I am probably going to microwave a burrito in a few minutes. It stopped raining.
[She takes a deep breath]
JENNIFER: There is a clock sitting on the mantel. It is a round clock, with a polished body made of mahogany wood. The face is also mahogany, which sets off the gold of the numerals. Its two hands are gold and pointed like arrowheads. And when they overlap, it looks a little like the Chrysler Building. It is half a minute away from nine o’clock. The clock will let out nine chimes when it gets there. You may not remember there being a clock on the mantelpiece. But how the clock got there doesn’t matter. It’s there now. As improbable, or as confusing, or as disorienting as it may be... you know it’s true. You can see it. You can hear it
[Very softly, we begin to hear the soft ticking of a clock over the following:]
JENNIFER: And with every passing second the part of your mind that remembers any semblance of a world where there isn’t a clock on the mantelpiece grows dimmer... and more distant... until all you can hear... is the sound of nine PM.
[We hear the ticking sound build... and build... and then we hear the chimes.Nine of them. For Nine PM.]
JENNIFER: Okay. Okay. Okay.
[Slowly, the ticking fades and transitions to the Unseen Credits music.]
Announcer: This has been UNSEEN, by Long Story Short Productions, based on an original idea by Gabriel Urbina, with additional conceptual design work by Sarah Shachat. Today’s episode was written by Sarah Shachat and directed by Zach Valenti, with script editing by David K. Barnes. It starred Ceci Lynn-Jacobs as Jennifer Morgan. Original Music by Alan Rodi, and sound design by Zach Valenti. UNSEEN is produced by Sarah Shachat, Zach Valenti, and Gabriel Urbina, along with Angel Acevedo, Jenn Schneider, and Amy Tanguay. For more information on the Unseen World, please visit Unseen.Show. Thank you for listening.
[Music fades out.]
End of Episode.
© Long Story Short Productions 2020