Hope and Mickey turn to the audience.
HOPE: (to the audience) So we go our separate ways. Him to the right, me to the left. I don't think about it too long. Skate away and let him know I'll go find him when I get to the gas station and get some help. I am sure this is the right way to go. I mean the left. But the right one, nonetheless. MICKEY: (to the audience) If I know anything about stubbornness, is that it's darn fucking stubborn. So I promise her I'll come to her rescue once I get to the station. I give her a couple of Guinness and see her skate away with her fairy-like flaire and petite physique. I want to yell for her to COME BACK! Stay with ME! Let's get lost TOGETHER! But hell, I'm stubborn too. HOPE: (to the audience) I am kinda loving skating in my own pace without some dude trailing behind! Who needs extra weight, ya know? I even do a little dance with my skates. For my audience of cacti! Huh. It's true what they say about the sense of freedom in the desert. The nowhere, the nothingness, it's kinda awesome. A place where no one knows me. A place where I haven't done anything wrong. A place I can disappear in. MICKEY: (to the audience) Without the sound of Hope skating away like a blast from the eighties, this road is quiet. I'm sensing that quiet heaviness of the desert once again. A sound I know oh so damn fucking well. Only thing I'm hearing is the rattling from my backpack. A loud shake of my past sitting heavy on my back as I try desperately to get out of this dump. Moments before, at least I had company. Now - with only Steel by my side, I am back to my miserable life wishing I had Hope here with me again. HOPE: (to the audience) When I look closely, I see more life in the desert than I first saw. A couple of lizards walking on some rocks. A boulder or two. Each cactus looks different than the other. And the sky is somewhere between day and night, sending flashes of light on the nothingness below. Yeah, I kinda like it here. 'Kinda', because I have this eerie feeling in my stomach that something might happen to Mickey. I mean, the last time he was alone - he nearly was burning up until I came along. I hope he doesn't get lost. I hope he's gonna be okay. MICKEY: (to the audience) Hope seems to me like the kind of woman that doesn't look back. When she makes a decision - she stands by it. She's smart. Can handle anything. My old man was like that, that old fuck. Me? I get carried away sometimes, biting more than I can chew. My old man always said that. So now, I try not to chew anything at all. Instead - I drink. Mickey takes a sip off of a Guinness, and cheers to the heavens. Meanwhile Hope has taken off her skates and is sipping her Guinness as well. HOPE: (to the audience) What if he was right and this road is a dead end? He is from the desert, after all. Why did I have to open my big ass know-it-all mouth? I mean I don't know shit! I'm trailer trash raised unemployed homeless with no prospects or a dime to my name! How stupid can I fucking be leaving this sweet guy behind? So fucking dumb. And too proud to ever admit it to him. If I ever see him again, that is. I may just get eaten alive by scorpions or die of dehydration or starve to death. At least then I'll be model skinny. Wait... no - that is just my inner toxic sexist speaking up again. Ew. MICKEY: (to the audience) With every step I make my bag is getting heavier and heavier. My feet are killing me. The sweat is dripping off of me as if I was in a sauna and not in a dry desert. Steel is as exhausted as I am. We are both not so young anymore. I could just give it up and wait here. Let Hope come save me again... or let God do whatever he wants to with me. I'm at his mercy and I know it. I think I'll put my head down for a little while. Just a little nap... HOPE: (to the audience) It's getting darker and this road is NOT getting any shorter. I must have been wrong. I must have. Mickey is probably back in the gas station figuring out some help to come get me and he'll be here in no time. I might as well just sit here on this rock, rest my eyes for a minute. I mean, he'll probably be here any minute. Any minute... Hope and Mickey both fall asleep, each in her/his road, and are about to be joined in a mutual DREAM SEQUENCE. To be continued...
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AuthorIn April 2020, while experiencing her first ever global pandemic, Tamar Pelzig pledged to write something every day, even if it's only a word, so she welcomed to the world a daily blog to keep her creative writing wheels rolling. Categories
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Header Art: Daniel Landerman |