Thursday, March 27, 2008. Extra, extra. This is your morning wake up call.
(Inside a garage, the door opens slowly revealing the light. It is early in the morning and the sun isn't really showing. In a flicker the fluorescents light the room in cremes and browns, revealing a rowboat on its stand in the center, upside down and unfinished. A man is shown, rolling up his sleeves and circling his wrists with his fingers, cracking his knuckles. He throws his shoulders back and crumbles to the stool beside the boats. A rag sits on the ground, he snatches it up and brushes off the dust from the frame. A screw driver pops the silver top off of a bucket of paint, deep green reflects the light. Brown brush dips and, in deliberate motion, glides along the side of the boat, smoothing out the clumps as they appear.)
Wake up.
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