Scene: While waiting for the bus.
Cast of Characters:
1. man in a coat, amateur robber
2. scintillating young girl, exuding an air of intelligence
3. crowd of people, all looking bored and busy at the same time.
A guy walks up to girl and says “Give me your wallet.”
Girl looks at him blankly. “I don’t have a wallet. Do you want my bag, instead?”
“Huh…your bag… what’s in there?” He hardens his facial expression to disguise his ignorance.
“A bag of peanuts, a hat, and a scarf. You can take it. But leave me the scarf. It’s brand new.”
“Huh… I can’t do anything with that, you worthless bitch. Give me your wallet.”
“I don’t have a wallet. I told you, you can have my bag.”
“You’re in no position to compromise, Missie. I’ve got a gun, and I can kill you.”
He sticks his finger against the pocket of his coat, realises it looks more like a knife, then adds another finger to make it look like the barrel of a gun.
A tear rolls down the girl’s face.
“Cry, bitch, cry. I understand fear. It’s a normal reaction when you’ve got a gun pointed at you, Missie. Now, hand me that wallet like a good girl y’hear?”
“For your information,” the girl sniffs, “I’m crying because I’m sad. My life, as I know it, has been one huge trot around the globe, listless and pointless. I don’t even have a wallet. All I have are a bag of peanuts. And this morning I threw my boyfriend out, that useless piece of shit. My whole world is crumbling. I can’t even see the light anymore, I don’t know which way is up or down. I’m swirling deep into the abyss of loneliness and worthlessness.”
A single tear runs down the man’s hollow cheek. “I can feel your pain. You have been hurt many, many times. This is a cruel world, Missie. People with hearts of gold can’t survive. People like you, and your heart of gold, are rare jewels in this dusty dome of darkness.”
“Hold me,” she bawls.
Man holds the girl and strokes her hair. Her sobbing softly subsides.
Enter orchestral accompaniment, which will move the whole audience to tears
Curtains close
The end.
A severe psychological drama focusing on human fragility and frailty by Kala.
Note: The acting must be impeccable.
I’ve been gathering all my stories and writings before my computer goes extreme R.I.P. and realised that I can make a collection of absurdities because I can be very absurd when the mood is called for.
Probability 1: I was probably high.
Probability 2: I was probably bored.
Probability 3: I was, in all probability, high.
“Those were the days” April 2001
Do you want me to write about how my day has been? the places I’ve seen, the things I’ve done? I’d rather give you a severe psychological drama. Actually there’s a part 2. Please, no hate mails. Only praise will be accepted in my mailbox, because I’m very praiseworthy and deluded. Everything I touch turns into metal, and when I touch metal they turn into flowers.
