Shallow Romantic Interest.
Act I, Scene III. A courtyard.
[Enter COMBATANT #3, with SHALLOW ROMANTIC INTEREST.]
SHALLOW ROMANTIC INTEREST: Combatant #3, I am very sad to hear that your good friend and my poorly developed romantic interest, Combatant #1, has perished.
COMBATANT #3: He has perished to the blade of Combatant #2, but I avenged his death.
SHALLOW ROMANTIC INTEREST: Revenge is so cruel! Surely you have heard the adage: "If you seek revenge, first dig two graves?"
COMBATANT #3: I have but I had forgotten it until this very instant. My life of bloodshed and revenge is over. Come, let us have a poorly developed romantic relationship together, for we are brought close by the bond of mourning we have for our dear friend and only occasionally mentioned romantic interest, respectively.
SHALLOW ROMANTIC INTEREST: Yes, let us have a poorly developed romantic relationship together due to this sacred bond of mourning we have for your dear friend and my plot-significant-but-otherwise-ignored romantic interest, Combatant #1. I shall honor his memory by pretending I was never interested in him in the first place.
COMBATANT #3: Yes, and I shall honor his memory by skipping the stages of mourning and immediately initiating a relationship with his poorly developed romantic interest, claiming to grow close to her due to my sorrow at his death.
SHALLOW ROMANTIC INTEREST: You have a depth of emotion that is truly remarkable.
This play is dedicated to the person who found this page by googling "curvy dreamers."
Act I, Scene II. A road outside of town.
[Enter COMBATANT #3.]
COMBATANT #3: I hope that my dear friend, Combatant #1, returns home from his perilous journey, and that he has not been slain by his sworn nemesis, Combatant #2.
[Enter COMBATANT #2.]
COMBATANT #3: You have the blood of Combatant #1 on your sword! I will avenge my dear friend!
COMBATANT #2: You will die just as easily as he!
COMBATANT #2: Alas, I am slain! I pray that my soul finds forgiveness for my crimes.
COMBATANT #3: You will not find it from me.
[COMBATANT #2 dies. Exit COMBATANT #3.]
I don't know how long I was been building it. Several decks of cards, hours worth of careful placement, and I had something truly colossal and impressive. So fragile, too--if the floor shook or my hand brushed it wrong the whole thing could collapse. It happened a few times, early on. I had to be careful.
I took a break for a little bit and glanced out the window. Someone was sitting on the park bench across the street, just sitting. She didn't look impatient or anything. It wasn't a particularly nice day, but it wasn't rainy, either--and she was just sitting there. I looked at my cards. If I went out the door would probably knock them over. All my work, gone. Just for an impulse.
I'll clean the cards up later.
I bought a used book the other day at a bookstore in Ballard. It was an impulse purchase, mostly. As I read it I noticed it was highlighted in a few places. Not many, not often, not enough to be distracting, but it was there: a blue highlighter on a few of the lines. At first it was solid and smooth, but as the book progressed it became haphazard, as if the reader before me had only cared that there was some marking on each of the lines rather than that the whole line be highlighted.
I wonder why. I wonder what she found so interesting about those lines that she highlighted them, and not the ones that stood out to me.
I was at a dive on Aurora earlier today, ordered a patty melt. It was kind of mediocre but I wasn't really there because the food's great. The waitress was real skinny, with long, wavy black hair, and a name so pretty the Greeks named a nymph after her. And all day I'd had this song stuck in my head, playing on repeat in my brain. I might have been humming it to myself but I tried not to. I tried to distract myself and focus on something else, anything else.
At first I thought she was coming to refill my water or something but she didn't stop, turned towards the jukebox instead. She put a few coins in, walked away, and a few seconds later the song came on. Then she brought by the water and I smiled at her and she smiled back. And what a smile. What a song. I'll never get sick of it.