A rooster crows Print
By Thorton Wilder, Our Town   
Wednesday, 19 June 2013

The audience, arriving, sees an empty stage in half-light. Presently the Stage Manager. When the Stage Manager reaches his place, the lights come to black. After one count, the lights come to full.
Stage Manager
This play is called “Our Town.” The day is May 7, 1901. The time is just before dawn.

A rooster crows.

The sky is beginning to show some streaks of light over in the East there, behind our mount’in.

Well, I’d better show you how our town lies. Up here is Main Street. Way back there is the railway station. Polish Town’s across the tracks.

Over there is the Congregational Church; across the street’s the Presbyterian. Methodist and Unitarian are over there. Baptist is down in the holla by the river. Catholic Church is over beyond the tracks.

Here’s the Town Hall and Post Office combined; jail’s in the basement.

Here’s the grocery store and here’s Mr. Morgans drugstore. Most everybody in town manages to look into those two stores once a day.
Public School’s over yonder. High School’s still farther over. Quarter of nine mornings, noontimes, and three o’clock afternoons, the hull town can hear the yelling and screaming from those schoolyards.

This is our doctor’s house, Doc Gibbs’. This is the back door.

This is Mrs. Gibbs’ garden. Corn...peas...beans...hollyhocks...heliotrope... and a lot of burdock.

And this is Mrs. Webb’s garden. Just like Mrs. Gibbs’. Only it’s got a lot of sunflowers, too.

Nice town, y’know what I mean?