2018

Cast of characters:

Girl, 28
Administrator (F), 40
Same girl, 18
Character from notes, 30 (Priest)
Priest, 53

ACT I

Scene 1

A phone call.

GIRL: Hello? Yes, it is. Well, we would be interested in hearing the opinion of the priest or, to be more precise, the Church. Yes, for a newspaper, yes, in the newspaper. Of course, we will definitely send it to you. We can arrange it. I’d send the questionnaire. Yes, of course, we can meet. When would be good for you? Today? Yes, that will do. Thank you very much. See you soon. Goodb... Yes, a pleasure. So do we.

(Silence. The girl is in a rush, looks at a clock)

Running through a crowd. I knew it, I knew I was going to be late – traffic. Could barely get off the bus. It’s not every day that your legs turn to stone either. You lift one up, you put one down – a step. Onwards through narrow streets, my fingers were restless in the pocket, they kept counting. Maybe it will help, maybe it won’t. A habit – it’s not a big deal. You just keep repeating it. Words only. Well, beads as well. This serious necklace. My grandmother gave it to me. She used to bend my fingers gently when I was little: five of this kind, ten of anther, but first like that. Whenever I’m scared or in a hurry, I say the words. What am I afraid of? I remember.. I do. My parents got a phone call, I was still little, so I didn’t understand all that much – my first funeral. Made me clench the beads, it was raining lightly, too. No, no, not these, naturally, not mine. Mine are right here. There wasn’t enough time back there. Let the memories go – that’s what was said when we talked. Well, I had to talk to doctors, they were supposed to help. Can you imagine the shock a kid experiences – there used to be a person and now there isn’t one. The body was there, yes, but it was different. I got scared. Took them a year to actually give some advice, instead of just asking. They’re not supposed to, right? They told me to write down something nice that I remember, and then read it. For there is no time in words – that’s what they said. And that’s how I became a sort of a writer. Now an interview about a different old lady. About an old lady who went to the forest and met a not-wolf. She met a priest with a cold expression on his face – no, they won’t be doing the funeral, and that’s that. I wonder why. That’s what keeps bugging me, I’m in a hurry. Five minutes, four, three, two, I think it’s in here.

(Opens a door)

Scene 2

GIRL: Hello.
ADMINISTRATOR: Hi.
GIRL: Hello, I’m here for an interview. I got a call in the morning and was told we could talk.
ADMINISTRATOR: Please come closer. I can’t hear you all that well.
GIRL: I... There was a call...
ADMINISTRATOR: Yes, I was warned. It might take a while.
GIRL: Thank you. Don’t worry, I won’t be long.
ADMINISTRATOR: Yes, I understand. Have a seat.
GIRL: Thank you. (silence) Did you see? Did you hear?
ADMINISTRATOR: Pardon?
GIRL: Did you see him? Is he back already?
ADMINISTRATOR: Yes, that’s why we contacted you.
GIRL: Is it difficult like that? Everyone keeps asking, and you just keep telling the same answer?
ADMINISTRATOR: It is.
MERGINA: That’s what he said?
ADMINISTRATOR: It’s difficult to tell, you can’t guess everything. Just have a seat. The priest is busy right now, we will let you know.
GIRL: Thank you. (sits down, starts looking through her notes)

(Silence)

ADMINISTRATOR: Excuse me. Lift it up.
GIRL: Come again? The chair?
ADMINISTRATOR: The lamp. You lack light.
GIRL: Such news, it got steamy in here. The shadow’s just... (Turns the lamp so that the light falls on her knees. Proceeds to look at the notes)

(Silence)

ADMINISTRATOR: Pardon me, did you just say something?
GIRL: No, I... Ignore it.
ADMINISTRATOR: Sorry.
GIRL: Ignore it. I didn’t say anything.
ADMINISTRATOR: Excuse me, but did you meet anyone on the way here?
GIRL: No, I, unfortunately, did not.
ADMINISTRATOR: They’re all like crazy – ‘we’re coming over to make sure, let him tell us...’ Thrilling. He simply won’t bury them.
GIRL: Everything’s fresh, none of us can avoid that. Truly a lot of interested people.
ADMINISTRATOR: You think?
GIRL: What else can I do?
ADMIN: Indeed, it is not a futile interest.
GIRL: If you took them all in at once, would that save time?
ADMIN: Unless it’s a scandal of some sort.
GIRL: Well, you could take them all at once.
ADMIN: And suddenly they’re interesting.
GIRL: So you can’t take them all in at once?
ADMIN: They might come.
GIRL: They’d all come at once, so all their questions would be answered at once. It would save you time.
ADMIN: Indeed. I doubt that would agree though.
GIRL: With the priest?
ADMIN: Him too. Do you think it’s easy?
GIRL: No, I’m sorry, I don’t. I don’t know.
ADMIN: Lots of people, the questions vary. It would be preferable to hear every one out, to know what they care about.
GIRL: You’re truly idealistic.

(Silence)

ADMIN: Excuse me, what did you mean by that?
GIRL: Nothing in particular... You’re just so stubborn and abstract, that’s all. The subject’s pretty much clear, the questions are similar, so are the answers. It seems simple enough. Why would you go into the personal details?
ADMIN: We don’t, we don’t even have any complaints or anything. We’re glad to be of help.
GIRL: Someone didn’t get enough attention from you though.
ADMIN: It was a misunderstanding. Every person is worth paying attention to.
GIRL: Every person wants attention.
ADMIN: Yes, you might say that too.
GIRL: And that was the attention that was lacking in this case?
ADMIN: It’s not that simple.
GIRL: It’s not.
ADMIN: You think we don’t care?
GIRL: Care?
ADMIN: Everything requires a balance, a mutual dialogue.
GIRL: Is that your mission?
ADMIN: A mission.
GIRL: Interesting.
ADMIN: To listen.
GIRL: It’s time.
ADMIN: I doubt it.
GIRL: You’re wrong.
ADMIN: Once.
GIRL: At least this once.
ADMIN: Really?

(Silence)

ADMIN: Sorry, we might’ve got things confused a bit too much... You can talk to HIM soon. We...
GIRL: ...we will let you know.

(Silence)

Scene 3

The girl is reading notes, underlining:

Red. Red... Red is the colour of disaster. All the car accidents – because of red. Darkness. But really brief... And then, and then... Light – we meet. Then it’s dark again. Noise, someone’s rolling around on the floor, approaches. It’s you, but not really you. Do I understand? Not at all. The body’s there, but it’s different – as if it were shaped differently. I observed it when they carried it.

(Silence)

To be honest, I can’t even write down what it is that I don’t understand. What does it mean to see time? To see yourself not being? Is that moral? Can someone be happy with what they took away by giving it? Split personality? Maybe. That’s how we met. She waited for me to get out of the hospital. And then, and then...

ADMIN: Are you alright? Excuse me? Some water, a tissue maybe?
GIRL: Yes, thank you, I’m sorry. I went back to a different time. But my body seemingly warned me against it. I’m fine now.
ADMIN: What different time?
GIRL: A time.
ADMIN: I’m sorry, I don’t follow.
GIRL: I just remembered...
ADMIN: Are you even curious yourself?
GIRL: About what?
ADMIN: You were reading.
GIRL: Am I curious? Of course I am. It’s not about me, it’s not about...me... No... I’m fine. It’s the subject... The subject... You know, these disasters actually have happy endings. I simply care about the people who encounter. It’s about them, so that they know what to do, you see.
ADMIN: Encounter what? Funerals? Getting wronged by the Church?
GIRL: Well, yes.
ADMIN: Yes?
GIRL: So that they know what to do.
ADMIN: You’ve been there, so you’ll tell them?
GIRL: Well, no, I haven’t actually encountered anything, not in person. I was little.
ADMIN: And the funerals?
GIRL: Quite so.
ADMIN: Someone close?
GIRL: My grandma, but I’m calm about her. No, it’s not only her funeral.
ADMIN: Friends’?
GIRL: Not entirely. I don’t know how to put it.
ADMIN: Indeed, painful moments.
GIRL: Precisely. I myself... Me... I saw myself instead of them, all of them. It’s under a car for me though.
 

(Silence)

ADMIN (distant, thinking): I see... We will let you know in a moment, just...

(Silence)

GIRL: I’m sorry, perhaps you’ve misunderstood me. I did encounter it, it’s important to me. It’s important, because there are readers. I write what matters. Well, either way – the authority as well... Not much is left of it, but people still care about the spiritual. I think they grew tired of the scandals. What a thing that is... The reporters barging in, constantly breathing down your neck, waiting... And you’re involved too. Adapt a little, observe the customers – and their numbers will increase. Mutual gain.
ADMIN: That’s what it looks like at first glance. However, you are mistaken – the Church is not after gain.
GIRL: No time?
ADMIN: That too. It seems you’re not in a hurry either?
GIRL: Well...
ADMIN: I probably mentioned already how grateful we are for your time. Perhaps a conversation with the priest will help?
GIRL: Help you?
ADMIN: Us too, but first and foremost – it will help you.
GIRL: I’m in a hurry. Those are the rules – you need to come, to meet. Every word, every sentence is unique. Every little thing is priceless... If you want your interview to be read, of course.

(The admin stays silent)

We all chase after the little things. We keep running, not measuring time. Time means nothing when money does...

(Silence)

ADMIN: I’ll warn him after all, it might be important. He’ll see you shortly.
GIRL: I’ll wait, I’ll wait.
ADMIN: Here, refresh yourself while you wait.
GIRL: I just... (rustles through her notes) I want to find one excerpt...
ADMIN: You said yourself that it’s a live conversation that you need, not prepared answers. Did I understand you correctly?
GIRL: There it is...
ADMIN: Take it – it has a wish inside it.
GIRL: I don’t think I want one. Hold on. Is it worth a try?
ADMIN: I think so, yes.
GIRL: Are you this pleasant to everyone?
ADMIN: Things happen, but we try our best. Remember – attention.
GIRL: Indeed. Such magic tricks, I’ve never seen anything like that before.
ADMIN: It’s just a cookie. Please, take one.
GIRL: Oh, it’s those... What are they called... They say it’s not worth it to trust the stars. I know that much. It’s similar, isn’t it?
ADMIN: Let us make you feel happy.
GIRL: So can I FINALLY?
ADMIN: What?
GIRL: Umm... I don’t really want one.
ADMIN: You don’t like cookies?
GIRL: The spiritual, or whatever it’s called, it... It doesn’t really attract me much. I think I’ll pass.
ADMIN: You may not. It’s impolite.
GIRL: Yes, indeed it is. Uncomfortable, even. (takes one) ‘To the pure, all things are pure, but to those who are corrupted and do not believe, nothing is pure. In fact, both their minds and consciences are corrupted. (Tit 1,15)” – what now?

(The admin gets frightened)

ADMIN: I didn’t mean to. I’m sorry. It’s definitely her.
GIRL: Who? Where are you going? Wait a minute, here, read it! I need to talk to the priest!

(The admin runs off)

Scene 4

GIRL: How am I to take this? Just like that, without saying a word? What note? A corrupted conscience, a corrupted mind? Do we only pretend to care?

(Phone rings)

GIRL: Oh! (laughing) Just in time.

(Phone keeps ringing)

GIRL: Something else about the meeting? She just ran out, I don’t know. She said she’d tell me when it’s time.

(Still ringing)

GIRL: Wanted to make me happy. She left and didn’t return, and I’m the one losing my mind. It’s quite loudly anxious.

(Phone ringing; stops after a few seconds)

GIRL: I was worried, I am worried and I will be worried, I know that. But today’s somehow special. Somehow with a person and a cookie. One hits me on the head, the other one hits my legs – and here I go doubling up again. Life’s a kaleidoscope. You twist it and I’m gone, but you can look, you can see, you take something, you hear something. Then the other colours. And here you go, going back to that one morning twenty years ago. It keeps on turning – back then, right now. Maybe I should just leave it be? Stop thinking, stop trying? To be, but not to be? But how, in what reality? Another one? Could you make an interview? My grandma called too. Twenty times, twenty years ago – are you going to the shop? Good, we’ll see each other in the evening then. Then again, this time my parents. The phone rings: today... The last one, to say goodbye. I remember the hands. Cold like an early winter or death. Nearly the same thing. She came as I was watching. Black and white. I used to dream that the body wouldn’t fit, she couldn’t let her hands down, it was too small. Or that she didn’t die, that she just got up after the accident, just like me.

SAME GIRL: I’m still listening, are you done? Everything was almost as you’re telling it. But don’t forget the fun part.
GIRL: Yeah? Which one?
SAME GIRL: You remember.
GIRL: So you say give up on my own? A child is not a child anymore because of me?
SAME GIRL: You’re one yourself.
GIRL: A little angel. What do they call it these days?
SAME GIRL: If I were you, however...
GIRL: We had a deal – you exist on your own.
SAME GIRL: An early winter morning, a girl, a head, a lip. You’re standing up. You’re tired of her smile. One movement of the hand. You’re both crying. She stops...
GIRL: But it doesn’t mean anything.
SAME GIRL: Just keep calm. You might get a piece of paper this time as well – be there and then, please. Or another one, in the other hand, it went down like this [...] Goodbye. There isn’t a single story, there are loads of them. It all depends on which one you pick.
GIRL: And you gotta read it quick. They’ll rip it right from under your nose, and that’s that. They’ll simply say you didn’t understand it.
SAME GIRL: It shouldn’t take long.
GIRL: Does conscience have a length?
SAME GIRL: I don’t know. Does it?
GIRL: They didn’t mean to be frightening.
SAME GIRL: But you got frightened. Because he saw you, and you didn’t see him. You read about him later, when the statement was given, remember?
GIRL: I stood there, shivering... We were together there, her and I. We were building our own wonderland – it was all but a stuffy little room.
SAME GIRL: It seems to be time.
GIRL: It’s hard to move.
SAME GIRL: As if someone’s keeping you. As if the walls were closing in, and your legs solid stone?
GIRL: Something like that.
SAME GIRL: It’s my doing. The accident was your fault.
GIRL: Excuse me?
SAME GIRL: Forensic results.
GIRL: An accident – that’s what it says. They didn’t identify me, although I look similar.
SAME GIRL: That doesn’t mean it wasn’t you. Besides, you were seen.
GIRL: But why did you appear right now? Am I dying again? Where shall I search for myself this time? Am I not coming back?
SAME GIRL: Because you’re guilty. That’s why.
GIRL: Am I on the cross or something?
SAME GIRL: Stop messing around. You wouldn’t survive that. You can barely keep it together now. Good thing you’re sitting down. Sitting down, I said.
GIRL: Oh, I get it, it’s about the priest. It’s the priest, isn’t it?
SAME GIRL: You did want to meet him.
GIRL: Just an interview.
SAME GIRL: Right now, because death is not an event of life.
GIRL: But I have nothing to do with this. I should not and I do not feel guilty.
SAME GIRL: To feel and to be. You think it’s simple? Watch it so that you don’t have to come here again a month later. That would be a sight to see. He didn’t baptize, marry or bury anyone, just burgled them. But to hell with it – help!! So he says: please, do go on, it’s most interesting. Could you tell me that in detail? I happen to know something about it, you ought to be interested...
GIRL: There’s nothing to say. What should I ask him when I finally meet him? What am I going to write afterwards?
SAME GIRL: Guidelines.
GIRL: In an interview?
SAME GIRL: Whatever it’ll be that you’ll discuss with the priest. Isn’t it obvious.
GIRL: The one whose funeral he didn’t attend last week? The so-called argument in the newspapers? The enraged society?
SAME GIRL: That too, why not?
GIRL: It is perfectly clear to me. They want their own hero. Naturally, it isn’t and won’t ever be a priest. We might as well stop trying.
SAME GIRL: But you’re here..
GIRL: Yes, about the interview.
SAME GIRL: A prepared interview. And then – well, then will be then.

(Silence. The girl’s eating a cookie)

Scene 5

SAME GIRL: Hold on, you’re a dog!
GIRL: I... no... no...
SAME GIRL: All reporters feel that way.
GIRL: Too much jam. I don’t.
SAME GIRL: Or only the ones with the so-called traumas.
GIRL: What else can you write about? Only yourself...
SAME GIRL: And bark up every tree. Don’t forget about it.
GIRL: Oh, please.
SAME GIRL: About the girl, the grandma, our accident, you did like it back then, right? All of your diaries are filled with it, look!
GIRL: They’re not connected though. Besides, childhood... It’s a different topic.
SAME GIRL: You started drawing after the accident.
GIRL: It’s unrelated.
SAME GIRL: Unrelated to a person dying?
GIRL: You said yourself that death is not an event of life.
SAME GIRL: But everything in life leads up to it.
GIRL: Whatever. What now?
SAME GIRL: So dig while you can. When you can’t anymore, you stop writing, stop asking about them. But for now, might that help?
GIRL: And what about them? If you don’t remember much, so much for memories then. They become art. Fairytales.
SAME GIRL: You remember though, black on white: a red stain on the lips, a smile, asphalt... A child’s hand, a dagger of angst in it. A great start.
GIRL: For a nightmare?
SAME GIRL: And your interview. The priest is a murderer.
GIRL: Only. You know how scared I am. You always ruin everything. What does your ME remind me of?
SAME GIRL: I am you. This interview CAN be about you.
GIRL: I laugh, I laugh at you, because I couldn’t take it otherwise.
SAME GIRL: That’s what I’m saying – laughter’s pain. Why all the tragedy.
GIRL: Huh? I’m simply laughing. Without pain.
SAME GIRL: Yeah, and that’s why the priest still hasn’t come. Something keeps humming in your head. Humming without pain.

(Silence)

GIRL: If anything’s humming, it’s you.
SAME GIRL: Find something to do.
GIRL: Then what?
SAME GIRL: You won’t overthink things.
GIRL: Is it really today that it ends?
SAME GIRL: Maybe.
GIRL: Maybe?
SAME GIRL: Would you like that?
GIRL: It depends on you?
SAME GIRL: Just like that, poof and it’s done?
GIRL: I don’t know, is it?
SAME GIRL: Poof and it’s done?
GIRL: Is it?
SAME GIRL: You can never know these days. You come for an interview and you leave... You leave...
GIRL: You think? Tell me, do you?

(They approach each other)

SAME GIRL: I don’t exist for others.

(The girl goes towards the door, reading her notes)

Scene 6

(Silence)

(Character from notes comes in. Takes a seat)

CHARACTER: You don’t look too good. All pale.
GIRL: Perhaps you confused me with someone? You don’t seem that usual yourself, Mister.
CHARACTER: That’s the way it is with me. Black on white. It’s not my choice.
GIRL: Black on white.
CHARACTER: Barely visible. You wrote that first story a long time ago.
GIRL: So you too... Everyone’s afraid of you?
CHARACTER: Obviously. So are you. When I saw the two of you playing, you seemed really scared.
GIRL: Picture, picture, to picture. Yes, I must’ve been. Did you come to the... The meeting?
CHARACTER: Have we met before? Could I’ve been mistaken?
GIRL: I saw you. I saw you before. Hold on, where did we meet?
CHARACTER: You introduced us.
GIRL: Where are you from?
CHARACTER: Far away. Page seven. Just before the entry about the girl with blood on her lip.
GIRL: Of course, I wrote the one... What was it... The one about the necklace first. And then the excerpt with your quote. I just copied it.
CHARACTER: Page seven through to the end. Through to now, almost every page.
GIRL: Yes, indeed. But you became a character later on. You’re always around.
CHARACTER: Can one get used to someone who is written down?
GIRL: You never know until you get bitten by a dog.
CHARACTER: I didn’t.
GIRL: Neither did I. And I won’t. Back then, when we were playing, you didn’t approach us. So we’re inclined to communicate now. Written conversation. Well, or a live one.
CHARACTER: That’s not my achievement – it’s yours. You write about me.
GIRL: You’re like a party without gifts or a gift without a party. Perhaps you’re my party right now?
CHARACTER: What party?
GIRL: A human being.
CHARACTER: Did you meet an unpleasant one?
GIRL: What do you mean, “meet”?
CHARACTER: Has she left already?
GIRL: No, I think, just for a few minutes. The others have.
CHARACTER: And?
GIRL: And? It’s spooky. I’m scared.
CHARACTER: No one writes or reads anything – what for?
GIRL: And what about me? Me too, just a few pages.
CHARACTER: And nothing happened?
GIRL: Nothing at all!
CHARACTER: That’s why you’re running, why you’re scared? Put the lamp down. You’ll hurt yourself.
GIRL: I’m sorry. It was a pleasure.
CHARACTER: What on Earth is this? (a light shines him in the eyes)
GIRL: My hands. It’s difficult to predict them. I’m... I’m still waiting... What are these noises?
CHARACTER: I hear them too. (waves hands around)
GIRL: A single sentence of yours when giving a statement. You stabbed my heart with a pen.
CHARACTER: Yes? (a hole in his body)
GIRL: Yes! Something like that. You know how it is.
CHARACTER: I do not, I can’t see myself, I’m nearly gone.
GIRL: And what then?
CHARACTER: You become free.
GIRL: When you can’t see?
CHARACTER: Or hear.
GIRL: No abstractions, no books, no characters... No jokes, no masks... Just you the way you are...
CHARACTER: And that’s when the mountain starts moving.
GIRL: Just imagine: it starts moving towards you, on top of you... SUCH a weight.
CHARACTER: Possibly... It might be easier...
GIRL: When?
CHARACTER: Than now. Easier than now?
GIRL: It’s a long story – and I don’t know the ending.
CHARACTER: It’s no big deal, I’m here until the end.
GIRL: You’re not here at all.
CHARACTER: I am, so long as you keep reading and writing.
GIRL: I read, I wrote, but...
CHARACTER: But you grew tired.
GIRL: I don’t know. (grabs a chair, swings it)
CHARACER: She writes and she writes, and then she gets surprised by what she wrote... Propaganda – it has to be this way, this way, and only this way.

(Silence)

GIRL (puts the chair down): I didn’t start anything. We’ll never meet in real life.
CHARACTER: You did start, you said so yourself.
GIRL: You misunderstood me.
CHARACTER: But you did reveal yourself.
GIRL: No, you’re simply incapable.
CHARACTER: Wait...
GIRL: You’re incapable of opening a door for someone who knocks, and neither can you help the ones tripped over the doorstep of eternity.
CHARACTER: You don’t know what I’m capable of.
GIRL: How so?
CHARACTER: You don’t even know where to look. A blind man leading a blind man.
GIRL: Don’t even start...
CHARACTER: More on the doorstep subject – I hear knocking.
GIRL: I’ll get going.
CHARACTER (sighs deeply): Wait.

(The girl stops reading)

Scene 6

(Admin comes in, nearly walks into the girl. Surprised)

ADMIN: What’s that noise?
GIRL: I was just leaving, but...
ADMIN: I was just entering.
GIRL: You made it, congratulations. Noise... (frightened) What do you mean?
ADMIN: I thought something had happened to you. Are you alright? I hope I did not offend you with the cookie?
GIRL: What cookie? Oh, right. No, I ate it.
ADMIN: We’ll start the interview shortly. A few corrections. We talked about it. Fill in the form, please. Try to be positive...
GIRL: And I thought that you... I told you what I think about unexpected interviews. Whatever that means...
ADMIN: I remember. Have a seat.
GIRL: Let’s have a seat.
ADMIN: Pardon?
GIRL: I didn’t say anything.
ADMIN: Here, fill this in.
GIRL: What’s this then? Name, surname... Private data. Why do you need it?
ADMIN: Formalities, simple formalities. It might prove useful in the future.
GIRL: The future?
ADMIN: Pardon?
GIRL: Well, the cookie, the form... A slightly unexpected move.
ADMIN: We’ll simply have your data. And having your data, we can invite you to various events, courses. Well, you get the idea – it’s useful.
GIRL: I couldn’t make it anyway.
ADMIN: That’s why we ask you to fill in the form.
GIRL: But I don’t want to be invited anywhere.
ADMIN: No one’s inviting you anywhere right now.
GIRL: I don’t understand. She was invited.
ADMIN: But she might not be again. AFTER this meeting.
GIRL: Okay, as long as it’s quick.
ADMIN: Thank you.
GIRL: What else did you say? Be positive?
ADMIN: Yes.
GIRL: How do I present my date positively?
ADMIN: No, no, not the data.
GIRL: Not the data?
ADMIN: We want a positive conversation.
GIRL: An interview?
ADMIN: Pardon?
GIRL: I didn’t quite understand. You want my interview to be positive.
ADMIN: Just let in some light – it’ll be good for you too. A bright interview.
GIRL: How is a bright interview different to a positive one?
ADMIN: Well, we want precision... I told you, it’s only formalities.
GIRL: Formalities to some, extra work to others.
ADMIN: Extra work to everyone, be sure about that. Besides, it won’t take long.
GIRL: Oh, let’s see... You want me to specify the questions I’ll be asking as well?
ADMIN: We thought it is a common practice.
GIRL: Of course, of course. Who’s we?
ADMIN: Do you have the time?
GIRL: No, I’m sorry, my watch is slowing down. I might give you the wrong time. And lying is bad – isn’t that what they teach?
ADMIN: Pardon?
GIRL: I’m nearly done. I fill this in and you call me, right?
ADMIN: I wouldn’t be so sure of that.
GIRL: You wouldn’t?
ADMIN: Haven’t you understood it yet?
GIRL: What was I supposed to understand? Hold on.
ADMIN: It’s only the beginning. Turn the paper over.
GIRL (smiling): But a beginning has an end.
ADMIN: Indeed it does.
GIRL: My last wish? I don’t fully understand...
ADMIN: You should see it quite soon.
GIRL: Are you leaving again?
ADMIN: Excuse me, how much have you left?

(Silence)

GIRL: Well, I couldn’t come up with a last wish. And I haven’t prepared questions, so I skipped them.
ADMIN: You haven’t?
GIRL: Well, we did talk about it.
ADMIN: Think again.
GIRL: I don’t understand.
ADMIN: I’ll explain everything. Let’s take a look...

(Reads the form)

It is evident from your answers that you don’t care at all about the afore-mentioned situation, and neither do you care about funeral services, their price, nor the Church itself. And you definitely don’t care about the people you supposedly want to inform.

Scene 7

GIRL: Wait! What do you mean by that?
ADMIN: You’re the one who doesn’t tell us what you want to.
GIRL: Should I be the one asking questions?
ADMIN: And you won’t tell what you’re reading, either.
GIRL: What does my reading have to do with this?
ADMIN: Nor what you’re thinking.
GIRL: I simply received a call from you and came here to do an interview. I don’t get it.
ADMIN: Give me your notes.
GIRL: Well, but it’s just material, excerpts, transcripts – all for the interview. I need them more than you, don’t you think?
ADMIN: Tell me, who hired you? What do you seek?
GIRL: What do you mean, who hired me? I did, it matters to me. I believe I told you that.
ADMIN: You’ve been told that it’s JUST material for the interview?
GIRL: Well, yes. I wrote it myself.
ADMIN: You know, we’re aware of whose hand it is you write with. We know that you hate the Church and are looking for opportunities to drag our name through the mud. The worst thing is, though, that you can’t seem to drop that idea.
GIRL: Because I don’t want to. I don’t want to hurt anyone. I don’t, and yet I keep hurting myself, you know?
ADMIN: You’re hurting yourself the most by having this discussion right now. No doubt.
GIRL: But I don’t care.
ADMIN: Neither do we.
GIRL: What doubt?
ADMIN: The one which torments us all.
GIRL: I didn’t say anything.
ADMIN: Negatives, only negatives; here, take a look. (shows her the notes) You’re constantly solving something, arguing, your whole life. You’ve been fooled, and now you’re fooling yourself.
GIRL: Who, when, I don’t understand.
ADMIN: It’s all the same to you whether it’s reality or an illusion. The line, where’s the line? How much more can we take it, someone toying us?

(The girl stands there, surprised)

GIRL: Until we die.

(Silence)

GIRL: When?
ADMIN: I can already hear the knocking.
GIRL: What should I say?
ADMIN: I’m sorry...

ACT II

Scene 1

(The girl, the Administrator and the Priest are in the room. A voice recorder is on)

PRIEST: What changed? They’re there, evaluating, taking pictures, commenting, writing books. As if they had their own point of view, as if they weren’t connected to everyone else by some fundamental link, some human connection. That’s when rivalry, war, violence – all of it becomes routine. We ought to be more patient, closer to each other, more consistent about what we are doing. It’s a pity that instead of helping, we usually just stand there, watching, but not doing anything. It can’t go on like this. However, we seem to have no alternative.
GIRL: So that is, according to you, the main disease of today’s society?
PRIEST: Not only that. They think they can find alternatives, they want a different life.
GIRL: And one of those alternatives is the Church, spiritual practice, a more soulful way of life?
PRIEST: You’ll most likely agree as well, for there are many who say that the Church, the Good News it preaches – that all of it is the alternative. No, it isn’t. God is not one of the possible choices. He is not a thing among things, an idea among ideas or an ideologist among dozens, hundreds, thousands of others. No. But it is much easier for us to see everything the way we do. Because that way we think we have a choice. As if the advantages and disadvantages made any difference. But it is good that we’re contemplating it – God didn’t take the mind away from man. You see, it is important to dare take a risk, to dare change. Otherwise, having chosen some other way of life, the so-called alternative, you can only change your habits at best.
GIRL: So what difference does religion make if you don’t consider it to be an alternative?
PRIEST: I should specify that I’m talking about Christianity in the narrow sense of the term. It’s simply something completely different. When one accepts the Truth objectively, one accepts a reality that one could only sense beforehand. And when it’s accepted, the Truth changes our existence, the reason behind it. Not just some part of life or activities. Of course, it’s natural over time for habits or friends to change. I am under the impression that the alternative you mentioned does not require change in the common sense. We apply bandages to a wound with one hand, and then scratch it all open again with the other. We’re curious to see how they change, how scars appear in place of the wounds. They even seem beautiful and usual to us. We are persevering. It seems we wouldn’t like life without them. We’re charmed by them, though we should be disgusted.
GIRL: However, you’re expected to be compassionate, one could say, loving, radiating a kind of love that surpasses human resources, human understanding in general.
PRIEST: I’d say you’re quite correct.
GIRL: Although you don’t see them in Church on Sundays, there are people who are curious as to what the representatives of the Church have to say on certain subjects. To be honest, I know some people who mark down which politician voted for what when deciding on certain laws and initiatives. It seems that a given vote indicates being Christian. So does a funeral. A kind of a threshold of death. You get complaints sooner or later. If it weren’t for you, the people who don’t want to be hypocrites wouldn’t even see the ones who do things differently, even though one couldn’t strictly call our society Christian.
PRIEST: You’re right once again, unfortunately. The motives for and expression of faith varies in each person, we are all “about ourselves”. I think that since we’re talking about society, it’d be useful to try and lower the contradiction between society and the Church. The examples you’ve given illustrate my statement perfectly. The Church prospers in society, ergo in all the government structures, in our history, our education, everywhere. The society, as I mentioned before, is ill. And when you’re ill, you’re not ill alone, everyone around is diseased with hate – people from parishes, communities, whole nations. We’re not talking separate people here, we’re talking specific layers of society, distinctive habits. You can’t escape all that. As soon as a person wakes up in the morning, they’re instantly in the Church’s field of influence. And at least in this case, their views and thoughts are of secondary importance.
GIRL: Yes, everywhere, all the time. That’s what so disappointing in the end – that when one finally needs that influence and help from the Church, it’s nowhere to be found.
PRIEST: I do not think it is. It’s just that we always want to put certain activities into comfortable frames. These frames often change according to our own needs, when a precise demand arises. Moreover, the demand is also indicated by our meeting. You didn’t expect anything like this on your way here, did you? Did you think about your relatives and friends who might be opposed to the fact that you’re doing interviews on such topics?
GIRL: We all keep looking for excuses. Wait a minute, what does our meeting have to do with any of this, my loved ones?
PRIEST: Who would’ve thought that it would take one or two scandals for us to finally meet. You are a part of my parish, if I’m not mistaken?
GIRL: Finally? We had to meet? We did not meet because of me personally, and not because of the scandal either. I think it’s important to write about what matters to society.
ADMIN: She noted that when we were talking too.
PRIEST: Splendid, I understand your enthusiasm. But does this visit matter to you? It seems you’ve waited patiently for our meeting.
ADMIN: We know that already.

(Silence)

GIRL: No, well, yes. You’ve probably been told already, you did talk. I’ve said it and I’ve written it before. It matters to me that people know what to do in situations like this. It’s about the people, is that really so hard to understand?
PRIEST: Alright, as long as you think so.
ADMIN: Pardon me, might we go back to the topic at hand?

(Silence)

GIRL: So you’ve received many accusations of negligence. You supposedly ought to be compassionate, ask for nothing in return. Well, simply bury them or at least pray. What would be your take on the scandal?
PRIEST: I think it received too much attention, too much publicity. What else can I say? The Media is altogether satisfied – more articles equal more money. I don’t really know how to hold them all off. You’ve experienced the busyness of my schedule yourself. I can’t make time for everyone, and I certainly have no time to contemplate the situation itself. What would you’ve done, were you in my shoes?
GIRL: Well, I suppose the attention was not uncalled for. Unusual indifference. Unusual, even though nowadays it’s more and more...
PRIEST: We’ve always had our problems. But what would you do?
GIRL: If a disappointed person came along, hoping for certain kind of behaviour, but I couldn’t do what they expect of me?
PRIEST: For example.
GIRL: I think I’d seek guidelines on how a priest is supposed to handle various situations. I’m no priest, so I’d suggest seeing one.
PRIEST: But maybe you’re christened? You ought to be burning with desire to help if you are.
GIRL: Let us say I am burning, but differently, selectively. I wouldn’t know what to do anyway. Now then, perhaps you’d share some of those guidelines or instructions with our readers?
PRIEST: The problem is that this particular case doesn’t really follow those guidelines.
GIRL: But there are many cases like that in the media – no weddings, no funerals, no money, a car gets bought... The things you can overhear like that. You’ve become disliked among a certain community when you refused to bury the parishioner.
PRIEST: I am calm. Why would I be worried? They don’t hate me – they don’t understand it. Not only now – they never understand. Of course, there are exceptions, I won’t deny that. However, one must admit that nothing may be done against the will of another person. So why would you encourage someone to live in illusions? You simply can’t.
GIRL: But it is you who make a mess by encouraging such practices or distancing yourselves from everything. Where’s the line between reason and consequence, reality and a pretty lie?
PRIEST: First, if we want to make a distinction like that, we have to encourage people to stop reading books, newspapers, stop relying on rumours and words of the disappointed. To put it shortly – to stop living. And that is hardly possible for us, inhabitants of this land, of this country. Perhaps in the future?
GIRL: You’re joking? That wouldn’t simply mean not living, it would mean the collapse of any structures still trustworthy.
PRIEST: The desire to gather information, reflect on it and have a say on everything is so very strong, it cannot be tamed with just a few words. Although essentially it is a sign of pride. You can’t keep warning people about vices and their possible consequences every time you deliver a sermon. That’s why God gave us the Decalogue through Moses.
GIRL: Can you explain what you mean?
PRIEST: So these ten commandments that everyone says they know, they’re important. They’re needed in order to get to know our sinfulness, to get us to go to church ourselves, on all fours if need be, to read the Word of God, to take care of each other. Are these practices relatable to someone?
GIRL: They are. To you. And they can’t do it. Exactly, they can’t, because they’re old and they don’t read. They don’t and they can’t. Often the ones who should pay the most attention to sermons like that don’t go to church at all. They appear when a favour of some kind is required. It’s natural to expect that it seems. Consumer society – everything’s perfectly clear to everyone.
PRIEST: It’s only your opinion that it’s the untamed desire to consume, disunite and provoke conflict at fault here. Although I admit you might be right. But we’re all responsible for ourselves, every one. Why do we do what we do and hope that our actions won’t be met with adequate reactions? People need to finally understand that the Church is not a service enterprise.
GIRL: She already tried to prove that to me.
PRIEST: Indeed.
GIRL: But she alone understands why.
PRIEST: Not entirely. It is indeed difficult to say, prove or teach that it isn’t like you say it is. God can see peoples’ hearts, whereas we can only see the people themselves, in the building, coming for community activities. The numbers, the donations, the money – it’s all visible. Whereas God’s reality crosses all boundaries, all realizations. We live by faith. There is another important thing that often gets forgotten – any reaction can bear sweet fruit. You’re curious without understanding, ergo you care, and you’re hurt by it. Scandals? Who creates them? How can a single decision by a priest or the Church be of help or of damage? It cannot. It can only encourage looking for answers. That’s the exact wish that led you here as well.
GIRL: Not everyone’s curious; others have made their conclusions a long time ago and they’re proclaiming them... Save for me, of course. I came, I’m curious. What would you have done if you were me?
PRIEST: The same, I suppose. I’d just like to talk and find out myself. That’s the way we are, we humans. Everything can come crashing down around us, and we still seek out our goal with enthusiasm. We don’t even look around, we don’t notice ourselves. That’s why we suffer.
GIRL: And we stop seeking for our goals, and we start looking around, and we do think about ourselves. But – you’re right – we’re capable of being glad when the time is right.
PRIEST: Glad, yes.
GIRL: You’re not at all confounded by the situation?
PRIEST: I don’t seem to have good reason to be sad. The elders of the Church support me, I’m calm.
GIRL: I heard lots of opinions.
PRIEST: People might think a lot of things. That’s due to a lack of information, due to not knowing. I’m sure I wouldn’t change my decision. How about you?
GIRL: What decision?
PRIEST: I was told that you felt confused this whole time, kept writing something, then reading. Have you any idea what should I say to make you satisfied? So that you could say at least that the interview was a success?
ADMIN: There is nothing about that in the form.
GIRL: Of course there isn’t. Why would I mention that?
ADMIN: We consider it to be important information.
GIRL: No, no, I don’t know what I expected. I was just driven by instinct, I’m curious. Simply curious. What did you say to the relatives of the poor old lady?
PRIEST: There was a private conversation. Unfortunately, I cannot disclose the details. Just the way you can’t tell me anything about yourself, because it’s personal. There are certain things no one would like to make it to a newspaper.
GIRL: If you can’t tell me, then there’s something to hide?
PRIEST: Silence is not an answer. It’s a choice. Same as solitude, distancing, becoming a hermit. Could you leave us please?

(The Admin leaves)

Scene 2

GIRL: You just had to ask and she left. Did she really, just like that?
PRIEST: And why would she stay? She has her own problems, a different task. Besides, it’s healthy not to know everything.
GIRL: Healthy for us too?
PRIEST: Us too, and her. Perhaps she’ll read something in your form and come again, don’t worry. The form seems to be of more interest to her.
GIRL: Indeed.
PRIEST: What else would you like to know? How can I be of use?
GIRL: I think many would be interested to know... Unless you could tell me, well, it’s important to me as well.
PRIEST: Ask away.
GIRL: What happens if a person is buried without all these ceremonies?
PRIEST: To me or the person?
GIRL: Well, both.
PRIEST: It’s hard to say.
GIRL: It is?
PRIEST: We entrust each other to God’s mercy. You have to understand that a decision like that was influenced by specific conditions. If they hadn’t pulled the bill out, made requests and fluttered, perhaps everything would’ve come out different. Besides, like I said, I have data on the donations, the unwillingness to communicate. I couldn’t be of much help to a person whom I haven’t even seen once over all these years.
GIRL: But funerals are for the dead, not money.
PRIEST: You’re right.
GIRL: That old person... A person who...
PRIEST: Who can’t talk anymore. We don’t know their motives, and we never will, I’m sure...
GIRL: It’s not too nice that the Harbour of Hope simply shuts its gate just before you enter it.
PRIEST: Question is where she was going to.
GIRL: If she’d come and asked for help, would you have helped?
PRIEST: Naturally.
GIRL: Even if she never showed up at the church?
PRIEST: Both me and the relatives, we can still pray for our loved one. The hardest part isn’t convincing them that it was the right decision. Like I said, in a way it was spontaneous... So it’s not the decision we should be talking about, but the society, which watches over everything like a warden, following your every step. How do you calm such people down, how do you stop the hate from spreading amongst them? These are questions I myself have yet to find the answers to.
GIRL: I think the same goes for everyone.
PRIEST: And have you found your answer?
GIRL: Like you said, we all solve our own problems. It’s sad that the discoveries are personally hurtful. But only then can they be real. Don’t you think?
PRIEST: They are indeed. I must warn you.

Scene 3

(Silence)

GIRL: Should I be worried about something?
PRIEST: Everything’s possible. I have a specific event, a specific person in mind.
GIRL: A person? I carry my cross. Is that something they’d say at the Church?
PRIEST (laughing): Something similar. If you want, you can tell me about it. I’ll gladly listen.
GIRL: I... I... Well, I doubt it, there are so many... I haven’t a specific one.
PRIEST: Really? One can never know why God sends one or another person to one’s life.
GIRL: Quite. So should I tell the story?
PRIEST: I’m listening.
GIRL: I was reading my notes, my diary while I waited for you. A diary that contains so much. The writing was supposed to help me work miracles. However, I don’t recommend it. Eventually everything becomes even harder... And especially today.
PRIEST: Truly? Very interesting.
GIRL: It’s strange, I told everyone I was going to do an interview. One unexpected phone call brought me here. I waited a couple of hours before we met. How did it all end... It ended with something that reminds me of a horrible nightmare. For example... For example the compassion. Everyone would like that – to just trust, and that’s that. However, I think that this past of mine is much closer than I thought. And us, us like we don’t want to be, we’re much closer too. You’ve grasped something similar when you were talking about today’s society.
PRIEST: It’s most efficient to speak of events from the perspective of Eternity, you know. Do not fear anything, simply ask for forgiveness. You have to atone, of course.
GIRL: You think so?
PRIEST: Any priest would tell you that. These words are not an opinion, it’s their everyday ritual.
GIRL: So everyone has a chance to fix things?

(Knocking on the door)

PRIEST: Please, excuse me. Come in.
ADMIN: They just called... They’re waiting for you. I got the impression that they do not approve of your actions and demeanor. They might like to send you to a different parish. By the way, here you go. (hands over the Girl’s notes)

Scene 4

GIRL: Are those my notes?
PRIEST: Pardon, I didn’t quite catch that, who was it that called?
GIRL: Excuse me, are those mine?
ADMIN: I just brought them along, you left them behind. I thought they might be of use. They said nothing else.
GIRL: I think it’s time for me to go. Thank you for your attention and opinion. I’ll send you the prepared interview so that we can discuss it after you’ve read it.
PRIEST: Hold on. Thank you, you may go.

(The Admin leaves)

PRIEST: Wait a moment, please, stay, we’re not done with the interview.
GIRL: No... Not entirely... You must not be feeling too well yourself.
PRIEST: We didn’t finish the conversation.
GIRL: Conversation.
PRIEST: Me? Indeed I’m not... Some tea, perhaps?
GIRL: Well.
PRIEST: Finally a piece of news for your spicy interview – “A priest abandoned by the Church” – it sounds splendid.
GIRL: The funny thing is that that’s exactly what I wanted.
PRIEST: Wanted what?
GIRL: Well, to meet you, to talk person to person. I anticipated the conversation to take an unexpected turn. So I agreed to wait.
PRIEST: Congratulations, it truly did.
GIRL: It seems you didn’t expect a reaction such as this?
PRIEST: An invitation to meet is not yet a specific position. It’s slightly soothing, yes, but only slightly.
GIRL: I won’t mention this in the interview, don’t worry.
PRIEST: Well, you’d be considered a good reporter. Might it be worth it, all the attention, the fame and recognition?
GIRL: I think I wasn’t supposed to hear this. Don’t worry.
PRIEST: Yes, you might be right. What are you gonna do. So where were we then? I was told you were treated with cookies. I haven’t any, so I won’t offer.
GIRL: Splendid. Let’s continue. The diary... I have to say though, the cookies are peculiar – I still don’t understand those quotes. Where are they from? I assume I wasn’t lucky enough to take the right one?
PRIEST: They are under the command of our administrator. She collects excerpts from the Bible, bakes them inside the cookies and there you go – a great way to start a conversation.
GIRL: When I took mine and read it out loud, she seemed scared.
PRIEST: She came to me immediately after. Why do you think that happened?
GIRL: I wanted to ask you the same thing. It definitely wasn’t a conversation starter. Ours had begun for a while already.
PRIEST: Correct.
GIRL: She’s generally weird.
PRIEST: Who?
GIRL: Well, her. I didn’t understand what the form was for at all...
PRIEST: It would’ve been boring to wait without it. That’s what it’s for.
GIRL: Just entertainment?
PRIEST: Well, you can imagine how difficult it sometimes is to experience solitude.
GIRL: I can.
PRIEST: Are you alone a lot?
GIRL: No, just saying. Maybe you don’t want to be alone right now either?
PRIEST: And we’re just talking so that we don’t feel lonely?
GIRL: Possibly.
PRIEST: Did you have any friends from the neighbourhood when you were a child?
GIRL: Is it related to our topic?
PRIEST: Possibly. Everything from our childhood catches up with us.
GIRL: Why possibly? Are you reluctant to become the part of society which comments and evaluates? A friend complained to me once that writing, just like conversing, is a form of propaganda. You simply create a nice little world of your own – everyone thinks similarly, you’re nice to everyone.
PRIEST: To be a part of it is inevitable. It’s also difficult not to write, not to communicate, to NOT GET ANGRY.
GIRL: You think so?

(The priest is looking through the notes)

PRIEST: Think about it. If you didn’t write, then this whole book of memories... It simply wouldn’t exist. Would it be just the book that never existed or your memories too?
GIRL: To tell you the truth, I saw something today that I wrote about all these years ago.
PRIEST: As if time didn’t exist, while reality and fiction were right before you? Let’s have a drink.
GIRL: Yes, quite similar indeed. Thank you.
PRIEST: Just a moment, let us look for an example after all, give me one.

(The priest opens the first page)

PRIEST: Well then, let’s take a look.

ACT III

Scene 1

(The priest reads out loud)

PRIEST: “I... It’s... It’s difficult. I don’t want to see her dead. We went there today. I didn’t play on the computer much. I didn’t get to. We had lunch with some people. I don’t know them. They put knitted pants on us. They played a recording of the choir. We just kind of stayed there until we left. I remember thinking: what would happen if I went to another hall?” Quite similar. That’s how it happened?
GIRL: I wrote that.
PRIEST: Oh, let’s take a look. It gets even more interesting: “They told me to write. They told me it would be better that way. But I’m dreaming. I don’t forget the flowers, I’m walking the dog... The dreams keep coming. I want a Barbie house for Christmas.” You’re eight in this one?
GIRL: Maybe a bit older. Read the one about the kindergarten.
PRIEST: “I was annoyed that she’s happy. She was smiling and I wanted so much for her to feel hurt. I hit her face, she fell down. I was scared, but I said nothing. No one else saw her dying. Why? Her head hit the pavement. [...] I was told that there was a man who saw me kill someone. And he’ll testify. I never saw him, maybe I’d say something. [...] I read what he wrote. [...] I wasn’t recognized. We see each other sometimes now, though. I don’t really care anymore. I want to celebrate my birthday with my family.”
GIRL: Well?
PRIEST: When did you start writing?
GIRL: When my grandma died. They kept telling me that I had to write about everything that makes me upset if I wanted to survive. The kindergarten thing was even earlier. I’d say it’s a pretty grim experience.
PRIEST: Indeed. Have you told anyone about this?
GIRL: Why would I? Do you think that the man I’ often see, the one I actually haven’t seen at all in my childhood, is not an adequate sacrifice?
PRIEST: I thought you said you never met him?
GIRL: Well, I agree, because I wrote about him. Now he is the Character from the notes. I see him around from time to time.
PRIEST: Could be.
GIRL: Could be? You know him? And my accident? It’s even worse.
PRIEST: I... I... Did you really get into an accident?
GIRL: Here, listen. (reading) “I got hospitalized today. My body was hit by a car. A different part of me (perhaps the soul) saw everything. I’m writing its memories. I was alone, now there’s two of us. I tell her that she is my consciousness. She doesn’t believe it thought. We talk, I think it’s in vain. What can I tell myself if I already know everything? I haven’t seen her in a while. Maybe we’re only together when I’m dying? I hope she doesn’t keep in touch with my relatives.”
PRIEST: We’re so enthusiastic, active, but we never tell anyone that we’re doing something bad.

Scene 2
 

GIRL: Pardon me?
PRIEST: Do you really think that I should feel sorry for you after you cut your friend’s life short when you were five?
GIRL: I thought we were just talking.
PRIEST: We are.
GIRL: What?
PRIEST: Nothing else is left. Just the blood stain on your shoe – I still remember it.

(Silence)

GIRL: So this whole “interview”, it was all about your philosophy?
PRIEST: I needed you to want to stay, but you couldn’t have understood that under any circumstances.
GIRL: I should have known, I should have. It’s you, you’re the spectator. The observer who distorted and then ripped the last pieces of my childhood from my very palm. They spread around like feathers – uncatchable. So that’s what you call help?
PRIEST: Being with someone is the best help there is.
GIRL: Not someone who is upset, disappointed and waiting for advice.
PRIEST: Giving advice is not that difficult. It’s harder to realize that that someone might actually listen to it.
GIRL: You keep washing your hands like this.
PRIEST: I didn’t expect to find stories like that in your diary. That is all. I’m surprised myself. It’s difficult. Even more so now. All this time you wrote about me, kept meeting me?
GIRL: You didn’t expect this, because I seem rather normal to you, because I didn’t raise my fist when your admin gave me that damn cookie?
PRIEST: Because it doesn’t work that way.
GIRL: Why not? I wrote it and it happened. Nothing too hard. For example, you come in and you say: “The last thread has been ripped, it’s open now – splash the blood around while you can, you vultures. Not much to see on the walls, sure, but it’s still enjoyable. You can stand on your toes, put some light on it, throw some one the table. A tower up to the sky. And that is death in life. Smile when leaving – you’re on camera. Nothing much else happens in our society, save for pictures. Yes, everyone crowds up around you, scared and confused. And you just turn around and walk away. The important thing is you’re photographed by someone anyway.
PRIEST: I’m sorry, I don’t follow you.

(Silence)

PRIEST: Wait a moment, you’re seeking me out? Perhaps some friend-character of yours is around somewhere? Maybe he’d like some tea too? What other girl is there? Maybe you’re her right now?
GIRL: Not funny. No, I’m simply tired.
PRIEST: I admit, I do not know how this conversation went where it did. And you ought to be tired indeed. To be tortured by one’s own fantasies their whole life – it must’ve been very difficult for you. I am very sorry.
GIRL: About what? That you can’t help me, that this whole conversation means more to you than it does to me?
PRIEST: It should’ve been obvious and clear from the very first phrase I said, from the scandal even, that I’m not one to give advice. All my advice is universal, you won’t like it.
GIRL: But my case is very specific. These stories are my routine and pain.
PRIEST: Exactly. I’m talking about mine.
GIRL: I’ve never told anyone about this.
PRIEST: Nor have I. Except for that one time at the precint.
GIRL: Does this mean we’re in the same boat – or what do they call it?
PRIEST: We just have to row. It’s good when it’s uncomfortable.
GIRL: But is there really no hope at all? And what about me? Maybe I’ll break free from this trap of self-destruction.
PRIEST: No one knows.
GIRL: Yes, yes. Not the day, not the hour. But if that’s it, if what’s left is what’s known to others... What do I do with my diary? All of them – I met all of them today. Why?
PRIEST: I’m also curious about that.
GIRL: So you don’t know the answer?
PRIEST: I think I mentioned earlier that all of us are just looking for one.
GIRL: Yes, well, my answer must be closer than I think. Excuse me, it’s time for me to go.
PRIEST: Just think about it.
GIRL: Of course, thank you. In your dreams.
PRIEST: Are you sure?
GIRL: I’m sure I’ve suffered through my punishment.

(Silence)

PRIEST: If what you say is true, I suggest you turn yourself in to the police.

Scene 3

GIRL: I don’t... Don’t... Do you mean that?
PRIEST: Our admin, I think, has already contacted them. They ought to be here pretty soon.
GIRL: That’s it? And she was in on it too this whole time?
PRIEST: Not the whole time, but she did suspect something.
GIRL: And when I took the cookie... Is that why she ran off?
PRIEST: She prayed for a sign. And she got one.
GIRL: What is it that it said... The only sign of yours – the sign of the... Whatshisname...
PRIEST: The Sign of Jonah. The Resurrection of Christ. Yes.
GIRL: Yeah, so much for spirituality.
PRIEST: But she didn’t know all the circumstances.
GIRL: What circumstances?
PRIEST: Of what you wrote.
GIRL: It doesn’t matter anymore.

(The girl takes her notes from the priest. Turns off the voice recorder)

PRIEST: What for?
GIRL: It’ll work as a testimony, evidence... I don’t know, I’ve grown used to it.

(Silence)

PRIEST: I didn’t turn you in back then, you know?
GIRL: You simply lied.
PRIEST: So both of us will have to deal with the police.
GIRL: You’re lying again.

(The Admin comes in)

ADMIN: They’re here.

The Girl, the Priest and the Admin all leave the stage.