Sunlight floods the stage.
DARK POLLUTED MAN: “What is this golden air?”
RADIANT LITTLE GIRL: “It’s what we use for money.”
A bird lands on her upraised palm
BIRD: “You can’t fly through it.”
RADIANT LITTLE GIRL: “You have to cut it into cubes and stack it like bricks.”
DARK POLLUTED MAN (to bird): “Light is too hard.”
BIRD (to the Dark Polluted Man): “Yes, too hard.”
(curtain)
