Let's go with: inside.
I'll be continuing my piece from yesterday; expect the conclusion tomorrow. That's the plan, at any rate. These things do tend to take on a life of their own though.
I helped Kat's parents set up the irrigation for a new planting area this afternoon. It was good to learn how it's done, but the glue they use to connect the PVC pipes is just naaaasty. I can still smell it.
That Sunday night was a restless one for all, and sleepless for many. In the darkest hours before dawn paranoid thoughts, seeing their opposition weaken, began their invasion.
What if the boxes contained bombs, set to go off when zero hour arrived? Entire families would be obliterated. Perhaps they should just flee, while there was still time.
But not a soul left. Such curious cats they were.
As the countdown entered its final hour, households gathered in living rooms, garages, on front porches, wherever they had placed their mysterious metal box. Friendly wagers were made on what they would find inside. More than a few guessed money, several thought a new tech gadget of some sorts.
None were even close to reality: a handgun for each resident of the house, enough ammunition to supply a small army, and a typed note which read as follows.
Any villager still alive at midnight this Friday will split five hundred million dollars equally between them. The prize money will not change. There is only way to increase your take:
Reduce the number of people you will share it with.
Best of luck.