The Tragic Loss of a Scarf in 4 Parts
Stage dark, slowly lit from below
two men standing facing each other, centre stage.
I have for you, the finest cashmere, to warm your neck!
Piano plays a short solo melody. Curtains close
2. The Wearing
Sound of a heavy wind,
lights glow, revealing piles of snow
one man shovelling, he is wearing a scarf and looks content
This snow, oh, before used to freeze my parts, as my coefficient of insulation would drop as lawn darts
condensation form from my exhale would collect in a web of icy chainmaille
this scarf with prop’ties so vast, giving protection as does a cast
heat; arrested, balanced warmth
the savoury nectar of comfort
this snow is as a test
of the greatest of ease
as I stand here and tis snow I cleave.
The stage dims
The sound of the wind fades. Curtains close
Aboard the Spirit of British Columbia in the Pacific Buffet
a woman and a man enter, they are shapeless in their winter garb.
There are two tables; one in the centre, the other, with a man already seated at it. They begin to remove their frocks piling them on 2 of the 4 chairs at that table. Joyful piano begins
He — I am so excited to dine in this setting…
She — I as well as my hunger hath been whetting
He — This grand expanse of food I must say…
Together, arms linked, can only be found at the Pacific Buffet
lights in the back brighter, a row of 4 sailors repeat
at the Pacific Buffet!
Sailors fall back into darkness.
Stage dims, spotlight falls on the man, stands and faces the audience.
This is when, painfully, fortune looked away.
For it is this place where my scarf has been forced to stay,
filled with food and glee, my dear scarf has been taken from me.
One of the chair fall, the music stops.
A cat holding a red flag, with the word Suspicion written on it crosses the stage. Spotlight turns red.
was it the man who was laughing to himself?
or was it a staffer who perpetrated this theft?
haunted by these questions
tormented by indigestions
How will I get my scarf back?
How will my bare nape endure this lack?
Lights dim. Curtains close
4. The Lamentations
Touch tone beeps.
Man in a room, empty but for a small table with an over-sized phone on it, his neck suspended in a block of ice, icicles of tears trail back to his eyes
Hello have you seen my scarf? I have looked for it everywhere?
I have lost it on the Pacific Buffet, How many times must I say?
Do you not care, I have looked for it, everywhere!
Fades to black, the sounds of sobbing. Curtains close