Stage: The two chairs remain centre stage, facing one another. Dim light, almost dusk-like. The silence is immense.
They stand close, almost touching. Neither moves. They hold stillness.
HER (softly): What are we.
Silence. He moves behind his chair, as if it was a shield. He grips the backrest tightly, eyes downward.
HER (firmer): What are we?
No answer. She circles her own chair slowly, deliberately. He mirrors her, both orbiting until they end up face to face, with the chairs between them.
HER (sharp, demanding): Say it. Damn it. Say it.
HIM (quiet, breaking): I can’t.
Silence. He turns his chair away, back facing her. She stares at the gesture, breath catching.
HER (after a pause, whisper): I’ll carry that question. Like I carry you.
HIM (low, almost pleading): I never asked anything from you. You were never a shadow to me.
HER (pained): Then why does it feel like I’m fading.
Silence. They both stand still for a long time.
Slowly, both step forward at the same time, meeting between the chairs. For the first time, their hands touch. Fingers entwine. They stand like this for a long silence, breath audible, eyes locked.
She leans slightly forward, their foreheads almost touching. But they do not kiss. The space holds.
HER (whisper, breaking): If this is love… it hurts. Too much.
HIM (quietly): If this is love… it stays. Forever.
Another silence. Fingers tremble, still locked together.
They do not let go, instead, they begin to move. Slowly, painfully, they walk in opposite directions, pulling away from the centre. Their arms stretch, their fingers still entwined. They keep moving, each step widening the space, until only their fingertips remain touching. At last, the contact slips, leaving only air between their outstretched hands.
They stand frozen, backs turned, the distance infinite.
HER (final line, steady, almost to herself): We were love.
Long silence.
The lights fade very slowly, leaving the outline of the two chairs and the empty space between them. Then total blackout.
reflections of an unquiet mind 