Cocoon

Scene 1

[The scene is an old store room in the back of the house. Crates are piled high atop each other sparsely
in the background. A few barrels flank the scene in clusters, some missing their lids. The room is lit by a
single bulb hanging bare from the ceiling. There are no walls to the set, outside the bulb's dim grasp is
an infinite darkness.

The master of the house enters with his handyman. He is gaunt and wears a suit that perhaps at one
point fit him, but is now one size too big. He is behind on shaving, scruffy in comparison to the servant
behind him, clean and filling well his plain clothing.]

Master: I left it on so I could show you. [He turns the light off, fading out quickly. After seconds he
switches it back on and it flickers strongly, for moments lighting in spurts before establishing its shine.]

Slave: I'll change the bulb right away sir.

Master: I've changed the bulb already, it's of no use. No, don't touch it, can't you see? The way it

flickers so, the way the light breaks.

Slave: I'll have a look at the wiring then.

Master: Don't bother, this room these crates are empty, but do you see the coded letters this light

makes? [He sets the light off then on again. The flickering makes a sound like cracking and moth's
wings and a strong electric hum.] Is it not so strange? The Black and White that fight each other here.

Slave: I don't quite understand sir.

Master: [Sighing] I had hoped you would. Never mind, it is no matter, leave me here please.

[He leaves]

Master: How could he understand what I can see here, on the edge of darkness in this back corner of

the house? But if only he could, if only someone could see these visions I am seeing! It is mesmerizing

how this light this lonely sentinel it speaks so softly in its plight.

[He turns it off then on again]

Yes I can feel it, while he could not. There is beauty in these spurtings and this gentle gentle voice. If

only he did understand, these gentle moths wings brushing against my face, and these eyes!

[He pauses a moment]

Or could this voice be only call to me?

[He turns it off then on again]

[He turns it off and the scene fades into darkness]

Scene 2

[The light is constantly buzzing out, left on and fluttering. The Master is sleeping in a wooden chair,
one leg shorter than the others. His head is back below this spotlight, staring up agape. The slave
enters, concerned.]

Slave: Excuse me sir.

[He starts awake, fidgeting the chair and rubbing at his darkened eyes.]

Slave: We've been looking for this chair; your evening meal is ready soon.

Master: I will be there in a minute.

Slave: Sir?

Master: What. [Staring back at the light.]

Slave: The chair, sir. I'll bring it back.

Master: [Shouting] Just go, damn you! I will bring it back myself.

[He begins to leave but stops at the edge of the light]

Slave: Sir.

Master: yes?

Slave: I know it's been hard, but you have to move on. It hurts to see you like this. [He leaves.]

[The master stares up silently, for moments there is silence save for the static hum.]

Master: [Finally] No, he does not understand at all [Closing his eyes] the gentle laughter in this light.

[He breathes deeply]

It is precious, this broken flashbulb. How could he understand? You are mine and mine alone, there is

no pain like to be away from you, this flicker like a flame. If only you could dance all the closer to my

eyes.

[He stands up from the chair]

I was a fool to think he's understand, your beauty most divine. Could anyone beside me know?

Perhaps it's in my head this soft soft laughter and whispering, these visions in the spurts of blackness

are mine and mine alone. How could he see the violence of these fighting tides, the happy children

dancing in this bulb? But if only... could I touch you?

[He stands upon the chair, holding the bulb in both hands]

You are so warm, my fire. Oh how you dig so deep into my heart!

If only they would understand your captivating beauty, your flashes here and gone forever, these

visions! Lapsing, as an insects last legs twitching. Could not I hold you forever, and care for nothing

else!

[He stares deep into this light, holding it clasped and precious in his hands and standing on his toes to
be just inches closer.]

Ah, these voices that I hear!

[The chair shakes beneath him. He struggles to keep it still but falls, holding tight the bulb and tearing
at the wire, submerging himself in darkness mid-descent.]

[From the floor the sound of an insect's last legs twitching.]