A small skycar, shining and sparkling in the sunlight, flew above the red desert. Bare hills drifted by, and Martian houses, abandoned, but not forgotten slid under, watching the intruder with their empty-eyed dark windows. It flew past the dried canals, faced with brown stones, leaving a trace of whirled red sand behind. It was not welcome here, in the Martian Land.

‘Can’t the man watch an evening program in his own house?!’ cried John with a rage in his voice. ‘Shut this crying kid up! When I was in his age, I broke my leg, while I was six miles away from home fishing for dinner! I managed to get back home on my own, and I didn’t shed a single tear.’

Tick-tock. Tick-tock. She loved the big clock in the hall. Its monotonous clicking sound always induced in her some kind of a meditative state like a giant metronome, which served as a brand-master, who created a rhythm for her while she was reading. Tick-tock - next line. Tick-tock - from left to right. Tick-tock - word by word. At some point she realized that she couldn’t concentrate unless there was a soft somnolent ticking of the clock on the background.

INT - SECOND FLOOR BEDROOM - NIGHT An empty bedroom on the second floor of a small colonial house. It is furnished in an old-fashioned way. The lights are turned off. We see a small dark WINDOW in the middle of a scene. An empty made double bed by the right wall. Two bedside tables bed are covered with lacy tablecloth.