Our scene opens in the present-day, renovated, galley kitchen of a 1920s plan-built home on the outskirts of a somewhat-artsy neighborhood in a large Midwestern city. Two spinsters live in the home. One is cooking. The other enters the kitchen, speaking:
"Isn't the thing supposed to be doing its thing about now?"
[FLUSTERED, AT THE STOVE]: "Wha'? What thing?" [LOOKS WILDLY AROUND AT APPLIANCES FOR EVIDENCE OF MALFUNCTION]
"The thing? The Moon--"
"Oh! I don't know, um..." [SETS DOWN SPATULA, WALKS TO WINDOW AT THE FAR END OF KITCHEN AND PEERS OUT AT A HAZY GLOW IN THE WESTERN SKY] "It's pretty cloudy but the moonlight's not red, isn't the eclipse closer to eight? Maybe there will be less clouds when it's lower." [RETURNS TO STOVE]
[TO HERSELF] "You know, I'm responsible for a lot of things but the safe and proper operation of the Earth's Moon is not among them."
BUILDING A 1:1 BALUN
6 hours ago