“Blank pages Friday, that’s all we have, blank pages…” Doc drifted into a mutter as he frantically looked through the clutter.
“I’ve found one,” shrieked Friday, “A letter! A whole gull derned letter!” She turned to face Doc, “Will this be enough? Can we make a word now?” She suddenly realized she was standing there holding the letter high above her head, and awkwardly corrected her appearance.
“No, not yet, but soon.” He said, as he focused his gaze on the page. “We need to collect more letters first.” Doc began carefully maneuvering his way across the cluttered room, beckoning, “let me see that Friday, if you don’t mind?”
Doc carefully took the brittle page, and instantly was enthralled by it. Friday shuffled around him, obviously curious why he was so enamored. She huffed, “I’ve never been known to be patient Doc!”
Doc looked up and smiled, glassy eyed. “Friday, you have not found a letter, oh no! You have found a formula.” He went to kiss the page, then pulled back in recognition, “what you’ve found here, is… is… words! We are going to be rich!” He delighted, the daydreaming plain on his face.
“Rich? What are you talking about? Rich with what?” Friday interjected. “I don’t need riches silly, I’m Friday. I’m a day! And I say we are going to keep this knowledge.”
If either of them had been literate, they would have been flabbergasted! For what was written on that page was:
It’s not any day of the week
choosing knowledge over riches