What are we doing?

[In house coat, slippers, and curlers arms akimbo, domestic fury,

Sad accusing eyes blazing with censor, lips grimacing.]

“Um…, (puzzled) we’re watching T.V.”

-Sprawled on the couch, Image of indolence, remote nearby, his hand twitches longingly, one eye glazed still on the screen, the other watches with fear and injured Innocence, puppy eyes, kicked puppy eyes.-

The world going by? Paint drying? Us dying?

[Leaning in, bitter but hopeful, hoping to include…

For mutual revelation, transformation, machine to man.]

“I’m pretty sure it’s the road runner.”

-The worry in his voice does not reach his eyes.

It’s for her sanity not for Them that’s a given,

Permanent, she can never leave-

How can you not get what I’m driving at?

No thought. No attention. Hell! No conversation.

What happened to youth, to love?

[Each point punctuated by a slippered step,

Advancing towards his slovenly throne, slap, slapping

Like she wants to do to his face, yet still

This close she is distant]

“I’m sorry what did you want to talk about?”

-Penitence laces his relief tinged voice, It’s clear he’s just sorry she’s upset, he’s hoping now he’ll just need to nod his head, make desultory comments, and grunts-

You really don’t understand it do you it’s not your slip shod words I want, it’s your desire to connect I want, to know I’m not wasting my time! I want to know that all this work has been for something!

[Arms crossed but now retreating, half muttering, more soliloquy than argument, but still hoping, for…]

“So being with me is work? Figures.”

-Remote in hand, sultry anger in his eyes, sullen resentment in his half slouch, losing himself in Saturday morning cartoons.-

It’s not like that I mean … damn it I won’t spend the rest of my life watching T.V. and going through the motions of suburban hell! I won’t.

[Dejectedly slouching, grasping for words that will make him see, hurt, pain, sadness all swim in eyes locked on him.]

“What a house, kids, a lawn, soccer games, would it be so bad? Or is it just doing that with me that is so unbearable?”

Yes, No! What about dreams? Is that all you want? I need more, Love and Romance and Adventure. I want to know every moment I’m alive; I won’t build a nicer coffin with a picket fence, even with you, I won’t.

“Did you want a prince? You knew I wasn’t one, you turned down princes for me, you turned down rich and mighty men for me. Why? I thought I was what you wanted.”

Maybe, I don’t know …

“I don’t know either, what are you dreaming, thinking? I never really understood you, loved sure, but never understood. What should we talk about? I don’t know what you want. “

[Eyes burning, half hearted half known sorrow shining, tears forming

Not for him, for the youth wasted, love wasted, for the delusion, for the good times that almost made up the bad times. ]

Walks away, the TV receding into the background, the car running and no place to go…

Hollywood.