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14:49 / APRIL 01 / 1955
REGGIO CALABRIA, ITALY
There is a quiet, two story building in town. In the front, there is a sign advertising lease. The first floor once housed a butcher shop for many years. During the war, it was used as a small field kitchen for enlisted personnel attached to an allied command headquarters which had been established in the town. General Patton once made a brief visit, and was provided with a generous lunch. The second floor had been apartments. Both had been left vacant for three years after the end of local fighting. The butcher never returned- he had been a blackshirt, and fled the allied advance. Partisans found him, and his family. The apartments' occupants moved to America, in New York. In 1947, a travel agency set up shop in the butcher's place. Both stories were converted to office spaces. In 1953, the travel agency moved to a better part of the city. The second floor hadn't ever been open to new occupants.
The second floor had three separate offices. The first was filled with boxes. The second was completely empty. Centered in the third was a cheap looking desk, a small metal filing cabinet, and two identical chairs; one behind and one in front of the desk. Above this was a moaning ceiling fan. It hadn't been looked at since the renovation.
Everything in this second floor was dusty, but certain objects had distinct coatings. The desk, for instance, you could say it had months of dust over it. Same story for both chairs. The filing cabinet's dust was at least a year older. The boxes- they looked to have a decade's worth, perfectly untouched.
The floor's wood planking sagged, and creaked with each step. The stairs were worse.
33 Via Firenze. This was the address. The address on the little slip of paper, now burnt in a fireplace.
You had flown into the local airport that morning. You'd looked around, gotten lunch with view of the Mediterranean, and eventually wandered here. The door was unlocked. You looked through the offices, dusted off the chair in front, sat and waited. Thirty minutes of watching your timepiece. You had some idea of how this would play out. You were prepared to wait several more hours.
What do you do to pass the time?
>Rummage through your pockets. You had brought something just for this... (specify)
>Watch the street through the blinded windows.
>Try to find roof access.
>Write-in?
REGGIO CALABRIA, ITALY
There is a quiet, two story building in town. In the front, there is a sign advertising lease. The first floor once housed a butcher shop for many years. During the war, it was used as a small field kitchen for enlisted personnel attached to an allied command headquarters which had been established in the town. General Patton once made a brief visit, and was provided with a generous lunch. The second floor had been apartments. Both had been left vacant for three years after the end of local fighting. The butcher never returned- he had been a blackshirt, and fled the allied advance. Partisans found him, and his family. The apartments' occupants moved to America, in New York. In 1947, a travel agency set up shop in the butcher's place. Both stories were converted to office spaces. In 1953, the travel agency moved to a better part of the city. The second floor hadn't ever been open to new occupants.
The second floor had three separate offices. The first was filled with boxes. The second was completely empty. Centered in the third was a cheap looking desk, a small metal filing cabinet, and two identical chairs; one behind and one in front of the desk. Above this was a moaning ceiling fan. It hadn't been looked at since the renovation.
Everything in this second floor was dusty, but certain objects had distinct coatings. The desk, for instance, you could say it had months of dust over it. Same story for both chairs. The filing cabinet's dust was at least a year older. The boxes- they looked to have a decade's worth, perfectly untouched.
The floor's wood planking sagged, and creaked with each step. The stairs were worse.
33 Via Firenze. This was the address. The address on the little slip of paper, now burnt in a fireplace.
You had flown into the local airport that morning. You'd looked around, gotten lunch with view of the Mediterranean, and eventually wandered here. The door was unlocked. You looked through the offices, dusted off the chair in front, sat and waited. Thirty minutes of watching your timepiece. You had some idea of how this would play out. You were prepared to wait several more hours.
What do you do to pass the time?
>Rummage through your pockets. You had brought something just for this... (specify)
>Watch the street through the blinded windows.
>Try to find roof access.
>Write-in?
