Bernard, a free spirited man in his forties is with his wife, Amy, a close- minded woman in her mid-thirties. On their balcony. It’s about to rain.
Bernard: doesn’t it feel like rain?
Amy: looks like it, yeah
B: I was just wondering, do you, maybe…like, can you SMELL it?
A: rain has a scent?
B I don’t know, it gets kind of moist…sorta invigorating, but i don’t know how to put a finger on the smell…
A: its the smell of imagination. I have no clue what you are talking about, Berny.
B: neither do you, apparently.
A: oh really?
B: Yeah, I know plenty of people who can smell rain. its like another sense, Amy. Hey, have some fun, will you? you’re so uptight all of the time. Maybe it’s limiting you’re sense of imagination. Maybe you’re forgetting what freedom’s like. Come on, it’s rain! Have some fun!
A: Bernard James Patrickson, just because you earned a degree in psychology fifteen years ago does not mean you can try to be my shrink.
B: I’m not trying to be anything, Amy,I”m trying to be alive!
A: (looking away. Long pause.) do you want to go back inside and watch tv?
A: Never mind. Do you want some ice-cream? some toast? I have Bryers ice cream in the fridge.
B: What are you talking about? Ames. I don’t want ice cream. I want you.
A: no, bern-
B: I want you, amy, I want you.
A: Stop saying that, berny, stop saying that!
B: But ames-
A: (shouting) stop saying that, just stop! ( lowering her voice). Can you just come back into the house, bern?
B: why- why are you always changing the subject?
AMY exits stage right.
BERNARD burries his face in his hands.
Copyright 2013 Golden Star Poetry