Some stray thoughts; mostly pop and old British television drama, bits of memoir perhaps.
Monday, 25 April 2011
Giraffes - Act One, Scene Seven.
This isn't going to make much sense unless you start at the beginning - Giraffes - Act One, Scene One.
SCENE SEVEN
(Anna and Simon's house.)
SIMON. I thought that I might repaint the spare bedroom.
(Pause.)
SIMON. I've been meaning to do that for years.
(Pause.)
ANNA. Why?
SIMON. It's a state. It needs freshening up.
ANNA. But why tonight?
SIMON. No time like the present. Haven't got anything else to do.
(Pause.)
ANNA. You don't have to.
SIMON. What?
ANNA. All this decorating, tidying, repairing.
SIMON. Yes I do. I've always done it.
ANNA. Not so much.
SIMON. I haven't had so much time to myself before.
(Pause.)
SIMON. It's not a sin.
ANNA. I never said that it was.
(Pause.)
ANNA. Am I a sinner?
SIMON. No.
ANNA. You don't think so?
SIMON. You're not a sinner.
ANNA. What am I then?
(Simon thinks.)
SIMON. You're honest.
ANNA. That's true.
(Pause.)
SIMON. Do you resent me working on the house?
(Anna reflects.)
ANNA. Yes.
SIMON. Why?
ANNA. It makes me feel guilty.
SIMON. It isn't meant to.
ANNA. How is it supposed to make me feel?
SIMON. Happy. Comfortable.
(Silence.)
SIMON. (Suddenly upset) I have to do something constructive for you, Anna.
ANNA. I know. I know you do.
(Pause.)
ANNA. You don't have to try so very hard, that's all.
Next - Giraffes - Act One, Scene Eight.
Labels:
giraffes,
playscripts
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment