Coffee and Space, A Play in One Scene

Curtain opens on single spotlight point on stage. Within the spotlight is a small shuttle cockpit and two people sitting in chairs behind it. Both are wearing helmets with reflective material and suits so that their faces cannot be seen and bodies are obscured. To the right of the dashboard is a suspended window.

 

1: It’s been a while.

2: nods

1: Something about the dark of space, though, that makes it all seem like a while. It’s as if we’ve become part of it ourselves, stretched from here to the other end.

2: You think you’re space?

1: In some small way.

2: There’s no small way when talking about space.

1: goes quiet

2: I only meant that space is huge.

1: No. No, you’re right. I don’t know why I got quiet. Sorry.

2: I guess I don’t get it.

1: I know, sorry. I’m just saying words. I guess I mean that you can either feel small and insignificant or let yourself fill in the space… or maybe let the space fill you.

2: Huh.

1: I don’t know. Sorry.

beat

2: How’s the coffee?

1: Low. I’m starting to scrape the bottom of the bag.

2: Should we turn back?

1: Turn back? Now? Raises voice and stands I- I don’t even know if we can! Look. LOOK! Points to dashboard Our fuel is low, our carbon scrubbers are halfway working, and we’re nearly out of coffee. Coffee! Collapses back into chair

2: It’s not that bad.

1: No?

2: No.

1: You’ve gone mad.

2: Perhaps. 

1: Perhaps?

2: Yes, perhaps! Look, you’ve needed me here to make sure you hadn’t. And, at least one of us needs to be… not mad.

1: laughs a good belly laugh then goes quiet again We’re not going to make it there. We won't be going back.

2: I know.

1: I just needed to say it out loud. They said that by the time we reach this point, another transport will have been built that’ll pass us up and go further. So, why’d we even do this in the first place?

2: To see if we could.

1: That’s so optimistic.

2: To escape?

1: That’s so fatalistic.

2: To be the first.

1: That’s so imperialistic.

2: To find ourselves in the end of things.

1: starts to cry, then lets the tears come freely

2: You want some more coffee?

1: nods

2: Me too.

2 leaves the spotlight and exits stage left leaving 1 alone. 1 stands and goes to the window. 1 lifts a hand and places it on the window.

1: Am I too far off? If I hold my breath I can almost feel the grass under my feet and touch the topmost leaves of the trees. Am I too far off that I’m just as insignificant now as I was then?

Damn, you, darkness, for answering me. I wish you’d kept your mouth shut and left me to believe that I could stretch within you. I wish you’d kept me naïve.

1 goes back to dashboard where the pouch of coffee is sitting and connects the drinking tube to the helmet. Lights fade out.