Drama and dialogue


Usually, I stay silent
by Laura-Kaisa Välimäki

”I don’t get it when somebody does that.”
”He was just being nice.”
”I understand if you’re already leaping through the door and there’s a person right behind you. But what’s the rationale behind stopping, actually waiting for three whole seconds and deciding to keep the door open for a stranger?”
”I guess it’s called being polite… And politeness isn’t always reasonable, Tim. At least not in the sense in which you seem to define that word. – It’s all about small everyday things: a smile, a change in your tone, stopping for those three seconds and keeping the door open for that person walking behind y…”
”I still don’t get it.”
”Well, I liked it. He helped us, smiled at us and I smiled back at him. For a brief moment, I felt noticed and met. I think it is a nice, refreshing, feeling to note that for a brief moment you’re happy that you crossed paths with this somebody you’ve never met before and might never meet again.”
”I think people are stupid.”
”Well, I think you should never underestimate the power of little mundane acts. Those moments help the society, in some subconscious manner, to stick together. And besides that, sometimes you may really brighten up someone’s day.”
”By the way, I’m taking ballet classes again.”
”Oh… That’s lovely to hear! You really enjoyed them the last time, didn’t you? How is it going, then?”
”It’s… okay.”
”Cool! How are the people there?”
”I don’t know.”
”What do you mean by that?”
”I don’t know.”
”Um… It’s the same place as before, right? The one just a stone's throw away from the campus. Are there any of the same people as last time? Do you recall anybody?”
”Well… Carol’s there.”
”Nooo way, she’s such a nice person!”
”She said she, too, took a short break in the spring. And that she thinks it’s good to have a familiar face there now since all the other students and the teacher are new.”
”Aw, that’s so sweet of her. What did you answer her?”
”I didn’t say anything… Usually, I stay silent.”
”Yeah you do, and I’ve learned that the hard way.”
”…”
”I’m just kidding, silly! I love you just the way you are.”
”So, I guess I gotta go now if I’m still gonna catch the tube.”
”Ah… Yes, sure. How about next Wednesday, then?”
”What about it?”
”You, me, Once Upon a Time in Hollywood and a large popcorn since it’s your turn to buy them.”
”Oh, shit! I totally forgot that. I’m actually gonna go and see it tomorrow with Billy.”
”Oh, okay.”
”Do you still hate him?”
”What? I’ve never hated him, Tim. That’s not me. – Mad? Yes. Of course, I’ve been mad – furious even – after what he did to you but that’s not… Well, y’know, just forget it.”
”I’m sorry about Wednesday.”
”Yeah… Sometimes I just can’t help but wonder, Tim… Do you love yourself?”
”Hell, no!”




birds_of_paradise
An eco-comedy-drama in three acts
by Daniel Fernandez Galeote
Act 1. What we have done
Scene 1. The omelette
An alarm wails in the distance. Apus and Sickle lie on top of a fake plastic hill to the left of the stage. They wear masks resembling birds: Apus is a Cicinnurus magnificus, while Sickle sports the face of a Drepanornis bruijnii. To the right, farther away towards the back, is a coal power plant made of cardboard, big enough for a person to get in. Red light blinks through the windows. Apus and Sickle look towards the building through binoculars.
Apus               The last worker should be leaving anytime now.
Sickle removes the binoculars.
Sickle               Nothing quite like a bomb threat to evacuate a facility before… you know. (He looks at the audience and then pretends to push down an invisible cartoonish detonator, mimicking an explosion with too much enthusiasm).
Apus               Sickle, this is serious. Please, don’t lose focus.
A woman wearing a lab coat hurries out of the power plant. She is a scientist.
Apus               There she is. According to the employee records, the plant should be empty now. Hurry up and push the button before the police get here.
Sickle               Wait. Shouldn’t we… say some last words?
Apus               What do you mean? We are blowing up the building, not ourselves.
Sickle gets up and faces the audience.
Sickle               (solemnly) It is your baptism of fire. After today, you can never go back. Any last thoughts you want to share before you turn into a true warrior?
Apus gets up and ruminates. She faces the audience and extends her arms to the sides, prepared to declaim. Sickle stands next to her with a device in his hand. The device has a big red round button and the word KABOOM written on it. While they are facing the audience, the scientist runs back inside the power plant.
Apus               I would like to thank…
Sickle speaks simultaneously.
Sickle               Too slow!
Sickle extends the arm that holds the device while theatrically bashing the button with the other fist. A humorous honk. Then, silence. Sickle looks at the detonator and pushes the button several times. Many honks, no explosion. The scientist’s arm pokes out of a window, holding a picture.
Scientist          Aha!
Her face appears one moment later. Apus and Sickle look at her. Apus brings her hands to her head. Sickle keeps pushing the button while pointing the device towards the plant, but slower and slower now.
Scientist          Oh, I found it! Thank…
Explosion sounds and flashes of light. The woman jumps out of the power plant through the roof, destroying it. Simultaneously, she throws some confetti into the air. She falls near the center of the stage and lies on the ground, motionless. Apus and Sickle look towards her, then towards the audience. Apus covers her mouth with her hands and falls on her knees. Sickle shrugs.
Sickle               Alright then. I’ll get the car.
Apus looks at him.
Apus               That… that woman…
Sickle               Yup. Turns out we made a beautiful omelette.
Apus gets up and looks at him.
Apus               What the fuck, Sickle.
Sickle               It was an accident. We are saving millions in return. We are saving the planet. You are a warrior now. Warriors fight and sometimes, someone dies as a result. One day, it might be you. Never forget it.
Apus               This is not how I pictured it.
Sickle gets closer and grabs her firmly by the shoulders.
Sickle               Welcome to the real world, Apus. We’ve left the theater of politics. This is action. Here, things do change, and they better change fast. This is an emergency. We better be damn radical about it. Now, let’s get out of here. It’s an order.
Sickle brings a cardboard car. Apus gets in it in silence. They both leave, running like the Flintstones.

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