By A Bay Or Unloved Cardboard
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By A Bay Or Unloved Cardboard
A short play about the nature of reality as told by a nit wit.
|AUTHOR'S OTHER TITLES (2)
An Abstract Play (Plays) A satire of a farce of a badly written play [604 words] [Fable]
Straightsville, Usa, Operetta (Songs) A sketch of a satire of an opera. [341 words] [Humor]
By A Bay Or Unloved Cardboard
The curtain opens on a dark stage. A single light goes on and in the pool of light stand two men by a bay. They are strangers and have never met before.
A. How many others have seen it that way? How did this landscape change over the last 60 years, 100 years or 100,000 years? Did it change at all? Do you know?
B. I really don't think I follow you.
A. Well look at those rocks over there. Do you see that delicious green color that the seaweed had made them? It looks like it has been painted on doesn't it. The reds and browns of the rocks showing through and the lighter green seaweed on the outside edge. It looks unreal doesn't it.
B. You're really not making much sense.
A. You're not listening. Look at those calm ripples on the bay, see them? Tell me, what do you see?
B. I see the water rising and heaving and small waves bobbing up and down.
A. No you don't, look.
B. I am looking, you can't tell me I can't see the water.
A. The ripples, notice. They're not actual movements, they are shadows. Dark shadows by light shadows in the water. Just shadows moving back and forth creating the illusion of moving water.
B. See here, this is ridiculous. You can't tell me...
A. Quiet! Listen. Do you hear it?
B. Hear what? You mean the train?
A. Yes, the train. You hear the train don't you?
B. Of course I do. What does this...
A. Do you see the train?
B. Why no, how could I? It's behind the ridge out of sight.
A. Is there a train?
B. Come now, of course there is.
A. If you can't see it then how do you know there is one?
B. Damn it man! I can hear it.
A. But maybe there is no train, just sound... an illusion. How does that old saying go? 'If a tree falls in the forest and there is no one to hear it does it make a sound?
B. Of course it does.
A. How do you know?
B. Common sense will tell you that...
A. Common sense will tell you that this is an unanswerable question. If there is no one around it may or may not make a sound but you can't prove it. For in order too you must have some one near the falling tree which would then make you finding false because no one should be there and we're getting off the point.
B. I didn't know there was one!
A. Oh yes, there is. I've had this idea running through my mind for quite awhile now. Back to old saying. You've often heard 'The world is a stage' haven't you? Well we are on a stage at this moment, just you and I. Everyone else is dead or offstage or something. One of us is the main character, the other just a small part. This whole world has been erected as a prop and you and I were 'written' to meet here. Do you think that is strange?
B. Everybody has these, ah, feelings now and then.
A. But does everyone believe in them? I think yes to a certain extent but I take it for the truth.
B. (As if the last sentence was the straw, actually he just wants to get away from this stranger) A fine thing. A man can't even go walking anymore without being... attacked by odd people.
A. Do you think of me as 'odd'?
B. How often does a perfect stranger come up to a person and start telling him queer things, unless, to say the least, he is odd! I think I'll go.
A. Wait a minute, don't you want to know why I feel this way?
B. (hesitates) No.
A. I must kill you.
A. Yes I must point this gun at your right temple and remain calm and pull the trigger.
B. You're mad, put that gun down, this must be a dream.
A. No, it's a play and we must meet by a bay. You are the major character and I have a minor part in which I kill you.
B. You can't kill me. I am... I'm... the major character, no you can't kill me. If you kill me the play is over. A play can't survive without its major character.
A. I know, I already figured that out. That's why I am not following the script and I am pointing the gun at my temple and I am going to remain very calm and I am going to...
B. No! Why... Why did you do it? The worlds not a stage... Look at all the detail... there is too much detail, no, there is not enough. I mean there is enough! The prop man takes care of it... not the prop man, nature takes care of it... you killed yourself for no reason, the world's not a stage it is real, it has to be... there's no audience...
(The train rushes up, A stands and pushes B in front of the train) Fade Out.
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© 2007 Ignatz Hockwitz
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