ACT III: Fragments

Stage: The same chairs. They are moved a little closer than before, not quite side by side. Dim light. Shadows stretch long.

They sit. Their bodies are angled away from one another. Silence.

Her foot begins to tap. Slowly. A single beat.
He fidgets with his hand, then unconsciously begins tapping his foot as well.

The rhythm is uneven at first, then slowly aligns. Two beats, in time. Silence. Only the sound of feet.

HER (softly): You gave me fragments.

Long pause. Feet keep tapping.

HER: A word here.
(beat)
A touch there.
(beat)
Never whole.

Silence. Their feet stop suddenly, as if caught.

HIM (low): I gave what I could. What was left of me.

HER (quick, cutting): Pieces. Only pieces.

Silence.

HER (rising, pacing around her chair):
One smile, then gone.
One promise, broken.
One night… nothing after.

She circles the chair slowly, her hand brushing the wood each time.

HER (to herself, almost chanting):
Nothing was real.
You left me with shards.

HIM (barely audible): I never knew which pieces to give. They are all ugly.

She stops pacing. Looks at him. Long silence.

HER (cold): All of them. I wanted all of them. All of you.

Silence. She sits again, but angles her chair an inch closer to his. He notices, shifts uncomfortably, but doesn’t move his own chair away.

HER (leaning forward): Do you hear me still, when the silence is loud?

Silence.

HIM (whisper, almost a confession): Every night. All the time.

Her head drops slightly, as if in both relief and exhaustion. Long silence. The rhythm of tapping returns, softer this time, hesitant. Their feet find each other again, two beats matching in the dark. They both stop at the same moment. The quiet is total.

Blackout.