3 A.M.Three a.m. By Jeff Kilgore3 A.M.
The scene starts with a teen about seventeen slowly walking down an empty and quiet street with hands in pockets and eyes downward. He stops in front of a bench, pulls out a small, slightly crumpled piece of paper, unfolds it, sighs, refolds it, replaces it in his pocket and sits down. The teen sits leaned back with elbows resting on the back of the bench. He then suddenly leans forward as if just realizing something.
Teen: three a.m., (Pause) is my favorite time of the day. (leans forward to rest elbows on knees and folds hands together) There’s no one to bother you
Lost and confused
