Maelstrom. Gorm. Gorm. Nice, woody sort of word
Murder
(a strange piece)
Man: I would that I were a carefree butterfly, flying merrily from one flower to another, thinking of nothing but sunlight and nectar.
Lady: I know one such man, actually. Entirely without any earthly concerns, which is to say, really, no responsibility for anything whatever. Such a pathetic sight!
Man (after a pause): Or perhaps a little wooden splinter, adrift in the sea, lost between the endless belligerence of mirthless depths and the dark tempestuous skies.
Lady: Funny you should say that. I have one good acquaintance, from my childhood days, who is just like that. Very timid and lost all the time, totally unadapted to life. Makes you pity him, actually.
Man (after a longer pause): Or should I instead be like God’s merciless, fiery eye, watching the jerky movements of men with much disdain and contempt?
Lady (with a sigh): Oh, I know exactly the type. One of my co-workers is a very cruel man, you might say, very aloof. But (adjusts her hair) a rather powerful personality, you must give him that.
Man (sits silent for some time): I wonder what it is that shields a man’s mind so that he does not grow mad at the mere thought of the infinity of space, the innumerability of stars, the dispassionate cruelty of time. We all strive, for such is the divine mission. But why then is it so futile?
Lady (nods): Yes, yes, very true. I, for one, always wanted to be a children’s author, and they told me I had quite a knack for short kind stories. But, as these things go, I’m a finance consultant these days, and you know, I don’t complain.
Man (with a frown): Some of us are slightly too bent on interpreting things so that they are a bit closer to heart, aren’t they?
Lady: What? Oh. Yes, you know, it’s almost as if you had one of my friends in mind when you said that. She’s so literal! Makes me rather sick, to tell the truth. Never appreciates the beauty of a clever metaphor.
Man: What I said wasn’t metaphorical. I was merely trying to taste the beauty of this world, to get a feel of its juice against my palate.
Lady: Oh, you’re just like my former husband! He was so flamboyant! Such a funny man, too, ever the practical joker! But too aggressively excited all the time, to tell the truth. I grew tired of him in the end.
Man (losing his nerve): Why on Earth are you always so straightforward in your interpretations! Why can’t you simply listen to the beat of the world’s giant heart? Do you think everything revolves around you? For it does not. Respect the mysteries of Universe, and they will respect you in turn.
Lady (indignantly): You are very rude! Do you suppose I should be some sort of a beady-eyed mystic? What nonsense! What about real life?
Man rises and shoots woman, who falls dead. Addresses the audience with a bow: Some people just won’t take the hint. Well, remember: There is no real life. All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players.
(a strange piece)
Man: I would that I were a carefree butterfly, flying merrily from one flower to another, thinking of nothing but sunlight and nectar.
Lady: I know one such man, actually. Entirely without any earthly concerns, which is to say, really, no responsibility for anything whatever. Such a pathetic sight!
Man (after a pause): Or perhaps a little wooden splinter, adrift in the sea, lost between the endless belligerence of mirthless depths and the dark tempestuous skies.
Lady: Funny you should say that. I have one good acquaintance, from my childhood days, who is just like that. Very timid and lost all the time, totally unadapted to life. Makes you pity him, actually.
Man (after a longer pause): Or should I instead be like God’s merciless, fiery eye, watching the jerky movements of men with much disdain and contempt?
Lady (with a sigh): Oh, I know exactly the type. One of my co-workers is a very cruel man, you might say, very aloof. But (adjusts her hair) a rather powerful personality, you must give him that.
Man (sits silent for some time): I wonder what it is that shields a man’s mind so that he does not grow mad at the mere thought of the infinity of space, the innumerability of stars, the dispassionate cruelty of time. We all strive, for such is the divine mission. But why then is it so futile?
Lady (nods): Yes, yes, very true. I, for one, always wanted to be a children’s author, and they told me I had quite a knack for short kind stories. But, as these things go, I’m a finance consultant these days, and you know, I don’t complain.
Man (with a frown): Some of us are slightly too bent on interpreting things so that they are a bit closer to heart, aren’t they?
Lady: What? Oh. Yes, you know, it’s almost as if you had one of my friends in mind when you said that. She’s so literal! Makes me rather sick, to tell the truth. Never appreciates the beauty of a clever metaphor.
Man: What I said wasn’t metaphorical. I was merely trying to taste the beauty of this world, to get a feel of its juice against my palate.
Lady: Oh, you’re just like my former husband! He was so flamboyant! Such a funny man, too, ever the practical joker! But too aggressively excited all the time, to tell the truth. I grew tired of him in the end.
Man (losing his nerve): Why on Earth are you always so straightforward in your interpretations! Why can’t you simply listen to the beat of the world’s giant heart? Do you think everything revolves around you? For it does not. Respect the mysteries of Universe, and they will respect you in turn.
Lady (indignantly): You are very rude! Do you suppose I should be some sort of a beady-eyed mystic? What nonsense! What about real life?
Man rises and shoots woman, who falls dead. Addresses the audience with a bow: Some people just won’t take the hint. Well, remember: There is no real life. All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players.