Here is another short that I wrote a while ago. Felt like sharing it.
No One’s Looking
Statue of a Man
Statue of a Woman
In a small room in a fancy house two statues stand at the far corners and are facing the door leading in .(The audience) The statues are incredible works of art; the man looking noble and the woman the essence of beauty. A clock chimes midnight from somewhere in the house.
Slight movement as the woman inches her head towards the man
Woman Statue: Do you think they are all asleep my love?
Man Statue: Hard to say. (More softly) Better we keep it down until we are sure.
Woman: I do not wish to stay quiet anymore. We do enough of that during the day.
Man: Yes, but that is what we must do. It is our purpose to be looked at and spoken about but never spoken to.
The statue of a man moves his arms a bit but does not move his head. He continues to watch the door.
Woman: They are silly things; people. What do you make of them?
Man: They can be interesting and a nuisance, often both at the same time.
Woman: Tell me who bothers you.
The woman, now moving more fluidly turns her whole self to the man. The man turns slightly from his position, but still keeps watch on the door.
Man: The snooty stuck up ones. Always assuming they are better than everyone else because they have more of everything. Underneath it all they are never happy, it shows on their faces.
Woman: I have noticed that myself. I don’t care for the maids.
Man: (Now fully turning towards the woman.) The maids?
Woman: Yes. They are so very rough when they are cleaning. It’s supposed to be a dust rag, not a club! I think next time they do that I’ll give them a good smack.
Man: (Laughing.) You’d give them a heart attack if you do.
Woman: Is it time yet?
Man: No, not yet. What people do you like?
Woman: I like it when they bring the children.
Man: The children?
Women: (Happily) When they look at us, they do not try to think about meaning, style, method, or any of that nonsense the artists talk about. When they look at us, they see the life we have, the beauty of life.
Man: I too have felt this way. The world has not gotten to them yet.
The clock now strikes three
Man and Woman together: At last!
They move towards each other. Their steps just as artful as their forms, they quicken and finally reach and embrace one another. They begin to sway and move in unison.
Woman: How I long to dance with you during the day. It is sheer torture to see you across the room and not be able to go to you. A few hours at night are not enough!
Man: I am happy with the time we get. I could stay in the corner for centuries if it meant I could dance only a minute with you.
They dance more eloquently now. Never once letting each other go, they move all around the room laughing all the while.
Woman: Why must we stay apart? Why can’t we stay like this forever?
Man: It is how we were made to be. People would not understand.
They dance more quickly now, using everything in the room; gravity could not hope to contain them; even the walls became a stage.
Man: Tomorrow will be here soon.
Woman: Let’s think of something funny to amuse ourselves during the day.
Man: I’ll make a parody of the looks they give us. (He puts his nose in the air and imitates the snobs they see so often)
Woman: (giggling) I’ll move my eye’s when they aren’t looking.
The clock now strikes seven
Man: Our dance is at an end. We must return to our places.
Woman: Time is always our enemy isn’t it?
Man: No, we can outlast time; we will always do each day.
They reluctantly let each other go and return to their spots. Stiffness taking them once more.