Once Upon a Bridge
eBook - ePub

Once Upon a Bridge

Sonya Kelly

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  1. 80 páginas
  2. English
  3. ePUB (apto para móviles)
  4. Disponible en iOS y Android
eBook - ePub

Once Upon a Bridge

Sonya Kelly

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He was like a rugby man,
He hit her like a rugby man,
Straight into her shoulder,
The momentum of the crash,
Dragging her beyond the kerb,
Towards the front tyre of my bus. Early one morning on Putney Bridge, three strangers' lives collided for one fleeting second. Inspired by real events, Once Upon a Bridge weaves a tale about human triumph and frailty, about the power of destiny and chance, and why sometimes we choose to hate and other times we choose to dance. Commissioned by Ireland's Druid Theatre and live-streamed from Mick Lally theatre in Galway, Sonya Kelly's latest play received a string of excellent reviews for its bold intimacy and engaging story telling.

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Información

Editorial
Methuen Drama
Año
2021
ISBN
9781350267114
Cast of characters
A Man, a white male in his mid-thirties, British accent. He wears trousers, a smart shirt, no tie, and leather shoes.
The Bus Driver, a black male in his thirties/forties. His accent is a mix of African and European with notes of London. He wears a bus driver’s uniform.
A Woman, a white female in her early thirties. Her accent is west of Ireland which flips effortlessly to English. She wears a smart black knee-length coat and skirt (not too restrictive, pockets are good) with a white shirt, and flat black shoes.
Script note
Italics in dialogue indicate the character is performing the voice of someone or speaking directly to a person in their story.
A double space between lines suggests a beat, breath, change in energy or a new thought.
An empty stage.
A projection screen looms somewhere over head height, perhaps not too conspicuously.
A spot of light appears. A Man steps into it and addresses the audience directly. His tone is calm, confiding, contemplative – tender even. No sharp edges or sudden moves.
A Man
In the McDonald’s on the high street opposite my flat, They used to have a lot of trouble at night, With antisocial behaviour.
Drug deals,
Drug use,
Fist fights,
Knife fights,
Bottle fights,
Racist abuse,
Sexual assault,
Arson,
Petty theft.
Minor acts of crime
Largely brought on by a combination
Of cider and disappointment.
So they do this thing now
Around the time the pubs let out.
They play classical music.
Apparently,
It is scientifically proven to quell the rage,
And stymie the hunger to howl at the moon.
I look over there now,
Friday night,
Two in the morning,
They’re quiet as church mice,
Sipping Cokes and munching fries to the sound of Clair de Lune.
One night,
I was standing at the window,
When this young lad swaggers in,
Tight cut shirt,
Skinny jeans,
Peaky Blinder haircut –
You can tell by the walk
That he’s scanning for prey.
So as he’s headed to the counter,
He sort of clips this guy with his shoulder as he walks the other way.
They stop,
Stare each other down,
Size each other up,
Flex their necks,
Ball their fists
And take their stand.
We hear the distant sound of Clair de Lune.
And I’m thinking,
Uh-oh, here we go.
But then I see the music land.
Next thing you know
One of them bows,
The other one curtsies,
And off they go,
Hand in hand,
Waltzing in and out between the tables like a white tie ball,
One – two – three,
One – two – three,
One – two – three.
I watched them for a while and I have to say,
From far away,
It was quite beautiful to look at.
I think about that now,
When I think about her,
And what happened on the bridge.
Another spot of light opens up. The Bus Driver steps into it as the music fades. His energy is similar to A Man: easy, calm, confiding . . .
The Bus Driver
It’s Friday morning,
5th of May,
In the year of 2017,
My alarm goes off at 3 am.
I wash,
Dress,
Fill my flask and lift my keys.
Silent as a samurai,
So as not to disturb my wife sleeping on the sofa.
Her ...

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