"The Brevity of Life" by Daniel Thompson

Enter Icarus and David.  Icarus, a scrawny, open minded editor, and David, a confident, philosophical writer, are meeting for lunch. They are seated at a coffee shop in London on the patio. Many people pace to and fro, and a discussion ensues between the two.

ICARUS: How are you doing, old friend?
DAVID: Fine! Just fine! How has life been?
ICARUS: Life has been interesting, to say the least.
DAVID: Yes, I do agree. You know, it is very ironic that we are meeting today. Just yesterday, I was thinking about our past together.  It seems like we've known each other for ages.    
ICARUS: How long is it that we have known each other?
DAVID: Why, it must be at least twenty years.
ICARUS: Do you suppose? Where has time gone?

Icarus looks to the sky then looks at David. A family of four tumultuously takes their seats next to the duo. Their banter is obnoxiously loud, yet David and Icarus seem to ignore it.

DAVID: What is time?
ICARUS: Is it not duration of action?
DAVID: I suppose so. Why has time surpassed us? Can it move so quickly?
ICARUS: Why, certainly.
DAVID: Hm. I see. Well, time has been splendid to us, I must say.
ICARUS: Has it? Does time take any of us into consideration? And what about life?  Does life care?
DAVID: Well, it must care.
ICARUS: Really? How so?
DAVID: Do not mock, Icarus. You should not be intimidated by life. Did someone not say, “Life is but a poor player who struts and frets his hour upon the stage and then is heard from no more”?
ICARUS: Indeed, Shakespeare.
DAVID: Precisely. Does this characterization of life serve justice?
ICARUS: Certainly.
DAVID: Then, why have any fear?
ICARUS:  Because life is unexpected; life is brilliantly powerful; life is all that we have.
DAVID: Ah, but there is your fault, Icarus. You are merely thinking of external life. Have you forgotten about internal existence?

Icarus looks up to the sky, then back at David. The cries of a child resonate through the air.

ICARUS: I suppose I have.
DAVID: Well, then. That is your answer. External life only exists because of internal life; the life that breeds inside of us is far superior.

Enter waitress. She stops at the table and waits for David and Icarus to acknowledge her presence. They do not. The clanking and clattering of utensils fills the brief silence.

ICARUS: Yes, I see. But how do we attain this life? How did the cycle of life arise?
DAVID: Well, where shall I start?
WAITRESS: You can begin by ordering.
DAVID: Yes, I suppose so.

David and Icarus turn their attention to her.

DAVID: I will have a decaf coffee with creamer, and my friend shall have the same.
ICARUS: And I shall also have some fruit, thanks.
WAITRESS: Anything else?
DAVID: Yes, in fact, please bring us a side of extra life.
WAITRESS: A side of life? Are you kidding me?
DAVID: No, I am not. I would like it well done, and of the finest quality.
WAITRESS: You're a real wise ass, aren't you?
DAVID: No. I am simply not contented.  
WAITRESS: Isn't the feeling mutual for all humans?
DAVID: Why, it depends who you ask.
WAITRESS: I'll be back with the coffee and fruit.

Exit waitress. David and Icarus turn back around to their previous positions. Icarus looks up at the sky, then back at David. The father of the family hollers at the waitress, but she is out of sight.

ICARUS: That was peculiar, wasn't it?
DAVID: No, it was simply beautiful.
ICARUS: How so?
DAVID:  Don't you see how she walks in beauty...like the night of cloudless climes and starry skies?
ICARUS: Borrowing a lot of classics today, aren't we?
DAVID: Yes, Shakespeare and now Byron. I suppose I'm pushing it.
ICARUS: Ah, but poetry does communicate powerful messages of life. Poets are quite profound.
DAVID: Precisely. Indulging in literature never hurts.
ICARUS: And forging literature? Speaking of, how is that novel of yours coming along?
DAVID:  Horribly.
ICARUS: How far into it are you?
DAVID: One page.
ICARUS: Oh my. One full page?
DAVID: No.
ICARUS: At least three paragraphs?
DAVID: Less.
ICARUS: Two?
DAVID: Less.
ICARUS: One?
DAVID: One sentence.
ICARUS: What have you been doing with your time?
DAVID: Thinking.
ICARUS: Why not transfer the thoughts onto script?
DAVID: It would be a waste of time.
ICARUS: Haven't you already wasted enough?
DAVID: Yes, but the one line is brilliant. I have found the sentence that describes life. I do not know how to continue on.
ICARUS: Splendid! What is the line?
DAVID: Life arises in a fit of tumult, and then settles like a receding storm; this calm is our existence, foreshadowing the glorious storm that shall one day be rekindled; yet, as serene as the calm is, it shall fade into the sky, and shall exist no more.

Icarus looks up to the sky, then back at David. The family slowly and loudly exits.

ICARUS: Why, I can see how you cannot move past this.
DAVID: Yes, I know. I've had it for a year, and do not know what to do.
ICARUS: Just live. Then, the proper words shall emerge.
DAVID: But living is harder than it seems.
ICARUS: Is it?
DAVID: Yes.

Enter Waitress with coffee and fruit.

WAITRESS: Here's your coffee and fruit.
DAVID: And the side of life?
WAITRESS: We've run out. My apologies, sir.
DAVID: Ah, there is no need to apologize. Life is nothing.
WAITRESS: Oh, you were serious?
DAVID: Most certainly.
WAITRESS: Then excuse me. You're quite a weird duo, I must say.
DAVID: Why, thank you. What a fine compliment!

Waitress laughs, and then exits. Icarus looks up at the sky, then back at David.  They both begin to sip at their coffee and Icarus picks at his fruit.

DAVID: She does not understand.
ICARUS: I'm afraid nobody does.
DAVID: Yes, but at least we can try to.
ICARUS: Certainly. But after eons, no one has even uncovered anything substantial- just slight progressions that only reveal minute details of a larger portrait.
DAVID: I enjoy that metaphor, Icarus.
ICARUS: Why thank you. Flowery language does add a bit of flare to the intent, does it not?
DAVID: It is ostensibly so.

David looks up at the sky, then back at Icarus.

DAVID: Why look at that storm approaching. It's simply marvelous.

Lightning flashes in the distance.

ICARUS: Yes, yes it is.
DAVID: I supposed one day life shall be renewed. Patience must supersede ambition.
ICARUS: Renewed? Isn't it constantly renewing itself? Why rely on patience when one can turn to the simple wonders of nature?
DAVID: I do not mean in nature. It is quite clear that the Earth is renewing itself periodically. I mean in philosophy, in sagaciousness, in the ability to apprehend the absolute truth! This age is a prisoner to its ignorance; mankind is an instinctual creature, and right now its instincts are serving it malevolence. But do not worry. As I said earlier, the inner life of mankind shall be renewed.

Icarus looks up at the sky, staring off into the distance. He does not look at David. It begins to drizzle slightly, and a slight breeze emerges. The sounds of the city resonate through the air.

ICARUS: We're all so insignificant. It's a daunting prospect.
DAVID: Ah, but nothing really matters in an ever-expanding universe, now does it?
ICARUS: No, it doesn't.
DAVID: So then, do not worry.
ICARUS: Yes, I will not worry.  

The wind picks up intensity. Napkins blow in the air, and it begins to rain torrentially. People begin to scurry for shelter, and the overall demeanor of the city becomes somber.  Icarus and David sit in silence for five minutes, with Icarus picking at his fruit every so often. David still sips his coffee. They are the only ones outside, and the waitress peers through the window of the coffee shop to check on them. They seem unfazed. David looks around and realizes that time for action has arisen.

DAVID: Ah, we must prepare. The storm has fully emerged now. Come, Icarus, let us go inside.
ICARUS: Yes, I suppose we shall. Renewal is upon us.
DAVID: Indeed. The storm is quite tumultuous. Let us wait for the calm.

Icarus and David gather their belongings and head inside. The sky flashes with lightning and the ground trembles from the thunder. Rain picks up intensity and the streets of London become empty. Life ceases temporarily.
Exeunt all.