Aaron Jamieson Roberts

Davis, one of five presidential aides who carries the nuclear launch briefcase, intercepts Fields, another aide, attempting to steal the case. They square off for ownership of the case, but for Davis their fight is interrupted by flashbacks that echo the choices he’s made from early childhood to his deployment in Afghanistan. As the ghosts of his actions haunt Davis, his desperation to return the case to the president and keep his job forces him to wrestle with making a sacrifice he was not prepared for.

As the summer stretches on into endlessness, Jack and Jon waste their days differently. Jon, a boy who would jump off a bridge with you, playing a daily game of whiffle ball with his friends while Jack, a boy too smart for his own good, has more static pastimes. Jon passes Jack each day on his way to the game until an egg interrupts that summer rhythm, capturing both of their attentions. They shoot the breeze as they watch it hatch into a caterpillar and ponder if you realize you’re changing or if it all happens at once. All the while their wandering conversations give way to first desire and first kiss. Metamorphosis is messy though, and arguments grow into fights, but boyish egos if bruised heal quickly. Away from the pressures of their peers they must parse out whether to be weird or normal, to think or feel, and if technically it’s a butterfly or caterpillar egg.

Abby brings her old friend Alex to spot planes, and also scatter her mom's ashes. As the they talk the two discover that humor is part of grief and getting out of it.

It's neighbor v. neighbor in the short glimpse of political posturing. One neighbor fills their yard with signs and accosts the other for not having any of their own. But who is really effecting the most change here?