Players:            Sorrow

                        Night

                        Star

                        {and the Narrator}

<All typed in navy is action>

[All typed in green is setting and general information]

{ This play has no title so you may call it what you wish. It has been called many things by its players Sorrow, Night, and Star, so you should do the same. I will get on with this now with no further ado, lest I tell the story myself and render its players useless. A final word before it begins though: None but the players themselves know what will happen in this little play, so I advise you to tread as I do . . . With no expectations. Let us now begin. }

[ Scene begins in blackness of the like of velvet. It is not clear if it is indoors or out; night or day. A young woman sits amidst the blackness that is dark and yet light at the same time. She sits with her head bowed in seeming remembrance. Silence is loud and thick around her until interrupted by the sound of horse’s hooves. ]

<Enter Night>

Where am I? <He notices the girl at his horses’ feet> You there, what is this place, do you know where we are?

<Her voice is soft and calm and she speaks in a solemn tone, which hints of great sadness>

I am in my own abyss, and you have come to share it.

Share it? I don’t even know you, how can I?

You have always known me … And you have never known me.

Who are you…?

I am the protagonist, the antagonist, and the bystander all in one. I have been called many things and given many names, but you may, for now, call me Sorrow, Sir Knight.

…

You have come to hear my story? <She inquires gently>

…

I see. Then be still and listen dear friend. You loved stories once, now love them again.

…

You have to ask to hear the tale.

What good are stories?

What good is a world without them?

…

Mine is a story of stars and storms, light and darkness, winter and summer … <Her voice hushes to a whisper> A story none will ever understand…<She bows her head again>

Why tell a story then?

…

Well?

…

Answer me <He says impatiently>

<She looks back up at him as if waking from a dream> Yes?

If you’re going to tell a story then tell it or else show me the way out of here.

Do you like the stars?

What?

The stars <She looks up past him at the empty velvetness above them> do you like them?

<He looks around> There aren’t any stars here.

Of course there are … or at least there’s one. I wouldn’t know, I’ve only ever looked for just the one.

But there aren’t any.

I thought the horse had blinders on, not you. <She says with a sweet, childish laugh>

<He opens his mouth to speak but is cut off>

And no, I am not mocking you. <Her solemn composure returns> Please answer my question now.

What question? You didn’t ask anything.

<He seems agitated now. She sighs and repeats her question>

Do you like the stars?

<He lets out an exasperated sigh> I don’t know. Why does it matter?

Have you ever known one?

How can someone know a star?

Have you?

It’s impossible to know a star…

<She falls into silence once more and looks up at him with children’s eyes> …

<He sighs again> No.

I did once… <She drops her head sadly>

What happened to it?

<With head still bowed> He went away.

Who?

<She looks up again> The star.

<He thinks to Himself for a moment “She’s obviously mad” But decides to play into her seeming “delusion” which is in fact her only reality>

Where did he go?

To join the other stars I think…

And where’s that?

Where else? <She lifts a hand and points upward then lowers it to her side again>

{ Silence ensues for a bit now while both ponder things of the stars. The silence is broken by Night. }

This star… was it a person?

Of course.

Then he couldn’t have gone up there <He indicates the blackness above> because people can’t.

People do sometimes.

How?

<She drops her eyes>

…Forget it, I’m leaving.

So soon?

There’s no point in staying here and listening to your nonsense.

And where are you to go then?

<His voice takes on a sarcastic air> Maybe I’ll go visit that star of yours.

You can’t <She says shortly> He doesn’t want visitors.

<Night’s horse stamps a hoof impatiently as it waits for direction>

<Sorrow lowers her head and begins to cry>

Stop that, don’t you know crying is for children?

Then I am a child. We are all children in our own regard. <She says softly>

Speak for yourself. <He says indignantly>

<She looks up and smiles> I just did.

Stop messing with me already you—

<She breaks in rather loudly> Name-calling doesn’t suit thy tongue Sir Knight.

With the way you are it’s no wonder that star left. <He says with a hint of anger>

<She stares up at him blankly>

You make no sense…

And yet I make perfect sense.

In your own world maybe…

Yes, in the world of stars and dreams.

…

Do you know what love is?

<He seems startled by the question> …

Do they not teach you where you come from?

Love is a silly thing created by foolish idealists.

By steadfast dreamers and willing hearts.

By pitiful people who depend on others.

By those with courage and will to trust.

<They both fall silent and pensive again>

{ Each seems to be pondering the others views against his own. This time Sorrow is first to speak.}

Have you ever been in love?

What does it matter to you?

<She ignores his comment> I was once. Very…

<He rolls his eyes> Let me guess … the star?

<She nods and continues> It was the brightest of all stars… or maybe the only one I could see… or both… <She nods curtly as she makes her decision> Yes, both. Most definitely… he was both to me.

Was? <He asks, raising a brow>

Is.

You said was.

He was and still is.

Quick to correct yourself, you scared he might be listening?

Of course. One always fears that the one whom they love would not understand how they are loved.

Right <He says sarcastically> Just what I was thinking.

<His horse whinnies and tosses its head>

<She raises a hand to touch the horse’s nose>

<It lowers its head to let her>

{ Both look at each other with large shining eyes. They seem to understand each other perfectly. Theirs is an understanding which transcends species. They look as old friends do when they meet again after a long, long time. As quickly as it was made the connection is broken. }

<Sorrow lowers her hand again and stares back up at Night> It looks like rain.

What?

The sky got dark, it looks like rain.

They sky’s been dark the whole time.

Then let it be light again.

How am I supposed to control that?

You control nearly everything that happens here. You hold the world in the palm of your hand. Make it light instead of rain, unless you are to gain something from a storm.

How can you believe that I control things?

Because I know you do. <She says confidently>

How?

Because I have faith that you do.

Having faith that I can change things is worthless. I don’t control what happens to anyone. I can’t even control what happens to myself… <He sighs>

<A soft shredding sound is heard as shards of glass tear through velvety darkness and fall upon them>

<Night holds his shield over his head and tries to control his frightened horse>

<Sorrow remains in her constant position looking up at Night> Make the rain stop… <She says to none but herself>

<Night struggles not to get cut as glass shards rain from the endless sea of black>

<His horse, cut and bleeding, reels and throws him off>

<He lands hard not too far from Sorrow who also has her fair share of wounds>

<The horse stares at Sorrow and Sorrow nods in understanding>

<She scoots her was to Night’s side>

<The terrible and painful storm seems to have ended>

<Night’s horse comes to lay at his other side>

<Besides his aching from the fall Night has escaped the storm with only a cut on the arm which held the shield>

<The wound bleeds freely and he does nothing to stop it>

<He sits with his head hanging low>

<His horse gently nuzzles his hand>

<Sorrow tilts her head and leans over to look at him> Let me fix it. <She says softly>

<He raises his head and looks her in the eye for the first time since meeting her>

{ His gaze is that of a mournful soul. One which is tired of his journey and wishes to be free from it; wishes it to finally end. He cannot even find a voice to question or sling witty retort. He merely sits and stares at her with utter confusion and dim eyes of the sort which echo of … no, I’ll let the players explain. }

<Sorrow only returns his gaze with a smile>

<She reaches over and places her hand on the injury> Let me fix it. <She says in a soft, adamant voice>

<He stares back at her>

<She leans over and touches her lips to his lightly>

<When she draws away the wound is healed>

<She withdraws her hand, places it on her lap, and sits with head bowed and eyes closed>

Haven’t found your voice yet? <She whispers>

<The horse has fallen silent with its nose in his hand>

<Night clears his throat> …If your star was watching I’m sure he didn’t like that…

<She opens her eyes and looks at him> Oh, didn’t he? <She questions innocently>

I doubt it.

You have nothing to worry about.

Worry about?

No.

<After a long silence>

…Why did that star of yours leave?

<She looks at him and smiles warmly> I have just found out he didn’t.

Then where is he?

Here. <She says simply>

Here?

<She nods>

But how? Where?

I may be in large part one of children’s nature, but I do understand. He is himself two children that make up a man trying to find his way. He has never gone anywhere I now know. He has looked down on me and level with me, and sat by my side as he does now. I have supported him and thrown him and confused him to no end. He has tolerated me and perhaps even understood me, and I have come to understand as well. Darkness is only an illusion created by the journey so that we may not see the end until we reach it. I needn't question some things anymore for he has made it known. The storm did serve a purpose I now see, because I am now allowed to sit by his side once again.

<She smiles the content smile of one who has begun to understand that which has puzzled them for a long time>

I love my star so…

<She hugs Night and says to him softly> Your journey is nearly over dear star… don’t be sad anymore.

~End~

~Authors Note~

*( You may be wondering why Star never came into play. Well, he did actually. Star was the onlooker both within and outside of the play. He viewed things through Night’s eyes and through the eyes of a reader and onlooker. I do not know what he thought during or after the happenings in this play so I cannot type them for you to read. So, as you see, Star was an important and active player throughout the whole of this little play just as Sorrow, Night and his horse were. Take a bow dear players and bid your viewers farewell! )*