An Allegory

On a black stage with black walls and a black floor:

Two people are sitting on wooden prop chairs.  They're facing the audience, sitting at an awkward distance from one another, so that it makes the audience uncomfortable.  (Without say, two separate lime-lights on the two separate chairs.)

"It's just peculiar," one audience member notes to another, "that two chairs should be so removed and distant from one another.  And on such a small stage for goodness sake!"  And she coughs and takes a breath mint.

So, back to these two chairs and the two people sitting on them, one boy and one girl.  And the dialogue begins with the boy.

I tried calling you.

You did? 

Yeah.

I didn't get a missed call. 

It went straight to voice-mail.

Why didn't you leave a message?


(Nothing.  A shrug at the very most.)


(Pause) I heard about what happened.  It's awful.

I know.

 Are you okay?


No.

(Pause)



You should have left a message.


I never know what to say.

Well, you should have left a message because then we would be speaking and I wouldn't have to stage a fake conversation we never had.

Next time, I promise.

Okay, good.