Relationship in Five Acts
Act One: Not much is heard over the violins and piano. We see
two palms meet in a shake, then the more delicate of the two
holds out a piece of paper on which a phone number is scribbled.
Later: A phone rings. She answers. Later still: A bouquet blocks his face.
Act Two: A beach of velvety sand, romantic shores peppered
with shells and seaweed. The play becomes an ensemble.
Enter Time. He remains onstage from now until the end.
His presence gnaws at the couple, but his features remain muddled.
Act Three: We see the family room, car, and playroom littered
with toys. Unspoken words settle in minds like a thin layer
of dust on a old perfume bottle. Embraces are skittish,
and the nape of her neck reeks of bologna old Crayola.
Act Four: Scene one: A crowded restaurant, but the silence
is louder than the clink of silver and china. Wedding bands
pinch like claws. Scene two: Spotlight on an empty pillow.
Second spotlight on a pair of suitcases in the hall.
Act Five: The beach, again, but details have morphed.
The sun is still circular, but now it burns; the once gentle
breeze begins to whip at the face. Seas churn, taste of salt.
Regrets and new beginnings wash ashore, like transparent jellyfish.