No smoking sign
There is a no smoking sign on the wall. Heather and Ian are standing. They light up a cigarette. Tina enters the place.
Heather pausedly blows smoke in Ian’s face. Ian does the same to Heather. Then they turn around and blow smoke upwards.
Tina: Haven’t you seen the sign?
Heather breathes out.
Pause
Heather: Which sign?
Silence
Ian: Sign?
Tina: Right there!
Pause
Ian: Oh…
Silence
Ian breathes out and in again.
Yes…
Tina: So, please…
Heather: Ha. We don’t care about the sign!
Ian: No, we don’t!
Ian pausedly blows smoke in Heather’s face. Heather does the same to him.
Tina: Can’t you see it’s not healthy?
Pause
Each time you smoke, you generate free radicals, disrupting a living cell. Therefore, you kill life inside you and inside the innocent- passive ones who are breathing that shit in.
Heather: Free radicals?
Pause
Ian: If they’re radicals, they’re not free! There is no logic!
Heather: No logic at all!
Tina: Of course there is. I gave you science!
Ian: Science has proved itself not to be logic…
Heather: Right on…
Silence
Both Ian and Heather finish their cigarettes. They throw their cigarettes on the ground and tread on them. Each of them lights up another one.
Tina grows extremely irritated and grabs Ian’s arm with strength as to take the cigarette off his hand.
Tina screams with anger.
Tina: Give me that!
Silence.
Both Ian and Heather act in a very indifferent way, as if nothing extraordinary has happened. Heather carries on smoking and Ian moves his eyes up, down, right and, left while biting his nails.
Tina fixedly looks at the cigarette burning between her fingers. She takes a deep drag and slowly releases the smoke for three times. Then she watches the cigarette as it burns down. Once it’s finished, she treads on it and leaves the stage. The other two remain.
[The End]
quarta-feira, 25 de junho de 2008
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8 comentários:
ACHO Q EU TE AMOOOOOO BISCOITA!
AMO OS SEUS TEXTOS !
É ISSO AE , TODOS PRECISAM LER E CRÊR!
bjus
wtf? ;p
É, os incomodados que mudam.
Então, a gente entra naquela mesma questão daquele dia no bar...
O carioca (fluminense, brasileiro) não aprendeu a reclamar. Vetaram esse direito dele. O cidadão mais simpático do mundo (teve até eleição, né?) dá o seu "jeitinho brasileiro" em tudo. Puro conformismo...
E eu, que ainda te quero mesmo distante...
ah, esse véu provocador; deixa que eu gamo!
Jander.
maneiro teu blog, gostei daqui, parabens.
Acho que eu comentei no lugar errado..rs. Me referia ao texto anterior (deu p'ra perceber, né?!)
Quanto a esse...um dia vc traduz p'ra mim? Ô, analfabetismo!rs
Bjos, Dani!
Ah, mas cigarro é mó uó, hein!
Dorei o texto.
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