Light from the Sun
(a nine and a half minute play)

(Lights up on two people.)

ONE: Look on the bright side.

ANOTHER: There's a bright side?

ONE: Even if the sun stopped shining right... now... we'd still have nine minutes of light left.


'Cause it takes that long for the light from the sun to reach the earth.

ANOTHER: I get it.

ONE: So.


ONE: So...

ANOTHER: So... what?

ONE: So that's something.

ANOTHER: Yes. Definitely something.

ONE: What more do you want?

ANOTHER: What more is there?

ONE: Well, there's mountains, there's sky, amber waves of grain. There's everything. All of it. Yours and mine. Ours.

ANOTHER: Those aren't ours. Those are things. Ours is what we've been to each other, what we've done to each other.

ONE: What we could do. What we could be.

ANOTHER: There's no "do" and "be" without been and done.

ONE: There's such a thing as looking to the future.

ANOTHER: There's such a thing as tripping over your unburied dead.

ONE: What?

ANOTHER: All right.

ONE: What was that?

ANOTHER: Granted. I over-reached. But you understand the sense.

I just wanna... I don't wanna... stop being who were were just because we hate those people. I mean, those people are people, too-- who we were.

ONE: Yes.

ANOTHER: And I love them. I mean, I hate them but I love them... and... I am them.

ONE: You are them?

ANOTHER: And you are them, too.

ONE: We are them.

ANOTHER: We will always be them.

ONE: But we will also be others.

ANOTHER: Yes, others too.

ONE: So...


ONE: So you see? There it is. There's something in that.

ANOTHER: Or I could hate those others worse.

ONE: Why are we here? Again? Why must we always be here?


ONE: Where you are.

ANOTHER: You're not with me?

ONE: I'm with you... but I'm not here... or there. I'm not where you are.

ANOTHER: So you're not with me.

ONE: Oh, good. Games. You win. Ta-dah!

ANOTHER: But games aside, you're not.

ONE: I'm not what?

ANOTHER: With me.

ONE: I am as with you-- I am as with you... as you are.


ONE: Thanks.

ANOTHER: No, really, nicely put.

ONE: No, really, thanks.


ANOTHER: "Amber waves of grain?"'

ONE: I know. I don't know where I get these things.

ANOTHER: Well, that's from a song.

ONE: I know it's from a song. What I'm saying is... I don't know where I get these... you know... things.

ANOTHER: You got it from a song.

ONE: Yes, I did. From a song. You win. Ta-dah!


ANOTHER: Let's get married.

ONE: Let's get married? After we've exploded every possible reason we could ever possibly have had to get married, now you want to get married.

ANOTHER: What better time?... Could there possibly be a better time?


ONE: You may have a point there.

ANOTHER: Thanks.

ONE: No really, you might.

ANOTHER: No really, thanks.


ONE: But seriously...


ONE: A wedding...


ONE: Seems a bit...


ONE: Rhetorical, doesn't it?

ANOTHER: Rhetorical?

ONE: Ostentatious. Superfluous. Supererogatory.

ANOTHER: I get it.

ONE: I mean... if nothing else, we're about... simplicity, right?

ANOTHER: Oh, we're about that?


ONE: Look at it this way.

ANOTHER: Which way is that?

ONE: If all the oxygen in this room suddenly turned to nitrogen right... now!... you'd still have four and a half minutes or so before you blacked out and died.

ANOTHER: Unh-hunh.

ONE: It's true.

ANOTHER: And what is that supposed to do for me?

ONE: Do?

ANOTHER: I mean, am I supposed to be suddenly infused with enlightenment regarding the tenuous temporal nature of our existence?

ONE: Our existence?

ANOTHER: My existence, your existence, whatever? Am I supposed to squeeze some hope out of that, like carnival blood from a turnip, or am I supposed to let the sudden bleak existential starkness of it all somehow shock me into a higher awareness.

ONE: I don't know.

ANOTHER: You don't know.

ONE: Nope.

ANOTHER: Well, that's painfully honest.

ONE: Yep.

ANOTHER: I think...

ONE: Yes?

ANOTHER: Sometimes...

ONE: Sometimes you think... yes?

ANOTHER: You just want to drive us crazy.

ONE: That's crazy.

ANOTHER: You think.

ONE: Crazy.

ANOTHER: All right.

ONE: Crazy, crazy, crazy.

ANOTHER: All right.

ONE: Crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy.

You have noticed, I suspect, that if you repeat a word often enough, it somehow stops meaning what it means.

ANOTHER: Sometimes.

ONE: Crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy.

ANOTHER: Bad example.

ONE: You think?

Crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy.

ANOTHER: Leave it to you to choose a word that means itself all the more when it stops meaning what it means.

ONE: Oh my god! Crazy, crazy, crazy, crazy. Oh my god, you're right! Crazy!

Why do you say, "leave it to me"? Why do you say it like that?

ANOTHER: Like what?

ONE: As if...


ONE: As if simultaneously you were vaguely amused and mildly disgusted.

ANOTHER: "Vaguely?" "Mildly?"

ONE: Nice.

ANOTHER: Oh, stop.

ONE: Stop what?

ANOTHER: I was merely being... rhetorical.

ONE: Ah, very nice.

ANOTHER: It's inherent to my nature, apparently.

ONE: Very nice indeed.

ANOTHER: Well... thanks.


ONE: Sometimes...


ONE: I think...

ANOTHER: You think sometimes, yes.

ONE: Nice.

ANOTHER: Oh, stop. You think sometimes what?

ONE: That you don't take this very seriously.


ONE: This. Us.


ONE: Yes.

ANOTHER: Should I?

ONE: I don't know.

ANOTHER: You don't know.

ONE: If you don't know, I don't know.

ANOTHER: Ah, the rub.


ONE: I'm... I'm lost.


ONE: I'm... lost.

ANOTHER: How are you lost? You're here... with me.

ONE: Yes. And for how long?

ANOTHER: Who knows? Who gave anyone a guarantee?

ONE: Who asked for a guarantee? I'm just looking for some...


ONE: Faith.


ONE: No?

ANOTHER: I didn't say no.

ONE: You don't believe in faith.

ANOTHER: Well that's the problem, isn't it?

ONE: What?

ANOTHER: With faith?

ONE: What about it?

ANOTHER: It requires itself, doesn't it?

ONE: God.


ONE: Too heady for me. Why can't you just believe?


ONE: For one?


ONE: Us.


ONE: Yes.

ANOTHER: I do believe in us.

ONE: Really?

ANOTHER: In as much as... here we are... now. What's not to believe?

ONE: What about the future?

ANOTHER: Show me the future and I'll believe in it.

ONE: Uh-hunh. And shall I catch a falling star and put it in my pocket while I'm at it?

ANOTHER: Sure. Might as well.

ONE: Uh-hunh.

ANOTHER: "Shall I catch a falling star?" Nice.

ONE: Thanks. Again, from a song.

ANOTHER: And I'm rhetorical?

ONE: I never said I wasn"t.




ONE: God!

ANOTHER: God what?

ONE: I just don"t know what to say anymore.

ANOTHER: So maybe there's nothing left to say.

(Suddenly Another kisses One deeply, sweetly.)
Look on the bright side.

ONE: Oh, now there's a bright side?

ANOTHER: Even if I were to inject your heart with curare right... now!... you'd still have ten seconds to live.

(Five seconds pause.)

ONE: Nice.

(Five seconds pause.
End of play.)

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