A reporter comes into town and starts asking the townsfolk odd questions. What is she asking questions about and why?
__________________________________________________________________________
The iridescent glow of her MacBook Pro filled the dark room as she stared at the blinking cursor in Microsoft Word. Anna's mind was as blank as the white page confronting her. She hadn't a clue of what to write. The trance-like vertical text cursor taunted her as she sat at her desk ergonomically correct; fingers in the start position on the home row, wrists lightly resting on the wrist pad. Her career as a reporter weighed heavily on her mind. It was her one chance to prove herself.
She'd spent the entire day digging for a story in the little town of Willowbrook and got nothing, well...nothing interesting. The small town was known for the polite neighbors and family environment. Willow trees encamped the town's perimeter like a barricade. She'd heard of a tale that the town was so enchanting that anyone who visited never left. Today, she made her way into the town to test that theory.
It was a perfectly beautiful Sunday. There were kids playing on the playground and friendly neighbors waving on porch steps. She drove by manicured lawns and cookie-cutter homes.
Her first encounter with a Willow Brook resident was at the one and only hotel in town. She was checked-in at the front desk by a rosy-cheeked husky man resembling St.Nick himself, escorted to a small room with a window directly facing the town.
At the window, she observed the passerby and pleasant social interactions. She couldn't help but to feel a warmth of tranquility and hospitality reverberating throughout the townsfolk; a stark contrast to the New York city life she was accustomed to. She could see herself setting up shop here for the next few days. She had to meet people.
In the morning, at precisely 6:30am, her alarm rang and she rolled out of bed just like everyone else. She proceeded with her usual routine: morning shower, breakfast (scrambled eggs with toast), dressed neatly in her pressed white uniform with black blazer. She walked to her front door and waited for the knock. She heard the footsteps approaching but knew not to open the door until- knock knock knock (three times, always three). Swinging the door open, "Good morning Alice." She greeted her comrad expectantly. "Good morning Anna. Ready to go?" "Yes." Alice dressed in the exact same fashion gave her a once-over and immediately noticed something missing. "You're not wearing your Willow Brook pin." Looking at the bare collar on her crisp button-up, she remembered leaving it on her vanity. "I forgot it on my dresser. I could run to my room-" "No time. We can't be late. You'll just have to explain it to the sheriff. Come on." Alice led the way to the community center walking slightly ahead of Anna as usual. It was a short commute by foot into the center of town. All the town's folk walked because it was such a small town that no one needed a car. Vehicle transportation was, in fact, so unnecessary that no one even bothered to learn to drive except the sheriff of coarse, he knew everything.
All of the town's people arrived promptly and stood in a single file line at the entrance of the community center. All dressed in the same white attire. Each individual went through a quick inspection before permitted to enter. Anna was next after Alice. The attendant, Alexa, scanned Anna with her eyes from head to toe. "You're missing your pin." Anna, to no avail, tried to get some slack but was sent to the disapproval line for re-examination.
The day was already off to a bad start and she knew the sheriff's interrogation to come could jeopardize her chances of winning the coveted title of Willow Brook Reporter. Anna nervously waited in line behind Adam who casually turned to her, "What are you here for?" "Missing pin. You?" "I got a smudge on my shirt from my egg and toast breakfast. Wish me luck." He flashes her a wry smile before turning back around to knock three times on the door, which opens quickly with none other than the patriarch of the town himself, Sheriff Alfred, a rotund white-haired man, no more than 60 years of age occupying the doorframe in it's entirety, broadly smiling, but his eyes never did.
