A PAWN FALLS, THE QUEEN LAUGHS

EXT. – QUEENS, NY – DAY
It is the first weekend since the Astoria Paper Caper’s arrest. The sun rises over a tranquil neighborhood. Various landmarks are illuminated: The 59th St. Bridge, Silver Cup Studios, etc.

FADE TO:

EXT. – RESIDENTIAL STREET – DAY
A MAN walks out of his font door and, surprised, picks up the New York Times off his stoop. He scoffs to himself and smiles. He had forgotten this feeling. He is beginning to trust again.

CUT TO:

INT. – RORY’S LIVING ROOM – NIGHT
RORY reads the newspaper with a glass of wine. He is distracted by laughter from the building next door. He stares intently into space.

FADE TO:

INT. – RORY’S BEDROOM – DAY
RORY wakes up and walks past an alarm clock that reads 9:00AM.

CUT TO:

INT. – APARTMENT BUILDING – DAY
RORY approaches the front vestibule of his building. His newspaper isn’t there. Only a plastic sleeve sits on the ground.

CUT TO:

EXT. – RESIDENTIAL STREET – DAY
RORY walks feverishly between buildings on his block. All he finds are empty sleeves. He stops and looks around – a dizzying nightmare.

CUT TO: BLACK

Dear 2L Readers,

The above scene took place this past weekend. It was short-sightedness on my behalf that allowed me to convince myself and you that I had defeated what we can now assume is a full fledged newspaper-theft racquet. I am embarrassed with the self-aggrandizing article I wrote, and I apologize if its narrow conclusions led any of you to develop a false sense of security.

I know now that the feeling inside of me at the police station was not that of guilt. It was the still smoldering embers of a fire not yet fully extinguished. The petty criminal who stole my papers was merely a piece of the puzzle. But, he was a piece non-the-less, and it is around that piece that I will build outward until I come to an edge. And, it is upon this edge that I will stand as I cast those responsible over into the abyss.

If they think that my dedication will waiver or that my vigilance knows an end, then they have yet to realize the depths of my insanity. I may stumble, but I won’t tire. Being tired is why I have chosen to play.

Rory Corcoran, Editor in Chief

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