Play #92: Colin and Clifford, on the Road.

Colin and Clifford are traveling.  It is the end of summer and, as the two of them sit with cups of coffee before the splendour of a roaring sunset, they begin to talk about where they’re going.

COLIN: Maybe we should push on if we want to make Tobermory before nightfall.

CLIFFORD (abstractly):  I guess:

COLIN:  Lots of wrecks in Tobemory. 

CLIFFORD (distractedly):  Glad to hear it.  They’re going to love us.

COLIN: No, I meant ship wrecks.   You know, under the water.

CLIFFORD:  Carelessness.

COLIN: I’m sure none of them were deliberate.  You know how things can go wrong.

CLIFFORD: Maybe the chamber of commerce put them there—to give the skuba divers something to find.

COLIN (wearily): Jeez, Clifford, Coffee makes you so goddam cynical!

CLIFFORD (grinning): I lean back on it. 

COLIN (looking up at the incendiary sky):  Some sunset, huh?

CLIFFORD (agreeing):  Big.

COLIN:  Yeh.  Makes you feel small.

CLIFFORD:  Maybe it makes you feel small.  It makes me hungry.

COLIN:  Okay, so we’ll go eat.

CLIFFORD (draining his cup):  Right.

[a lengthy pause]

COLIN: Listen do you ever think about what happens when you die?

CLIFFORD:  Never.  And especially not when I’m hungry.

COLIN: Okay, well try to think of it now.  I’m asking you again.  What are you planning go do when you die?

CLIFFORD (off the top of his head): I thought I’d just lie on my back and look at the stars…

COLIN:  But things…well, you know…there are likely to be transformations.  Declensions.  A dwindling of some kind.

CLIFFORD (with great finality):  I’m going to lie on my back and look at the stars…until we get all mixed up together.