Pick a Card
By Melissa Ueckert
A lovely spring afternoon in an idyllic city park, not a cloud in the sky. There is a harmonious cacophony of wind rustling through the flowering trees, the bubbling of a large stone fountain, and lilting birdsong. A young woman in her early 20s sits dejectedly on the edge of the fountain, hunched in on herself. She is dressed nicely, but wears a twisted and ugly expression. Her leg shakes an anxious beat, a stark contrast against the pure loveliness of the day.
An older man shuffles in, hands stiffly tucked in the pockets of his worn and faded tweed jacket and old penny loafers dragging with each step. A comically large newsboy cap covers his grey wisps of hair. He sighs loudly and takes an unsteady seat next to the woman. She turns to look at him, clearly surprised by his presence.
WOMAN
You... you came.
MAN
Pick a card.
WOMAN
This again?
MAN
Any card.
WOMAN
From what deck?
MAN
From my hand.
WOMAN
For my house.
MAN
House?
WOMAN
House of cards.
MAN
From my hands.
He finally removes his hands from his pockets and shows them to the her, a hopeful look on his face.
Hands like houses.
WOMAN
Cards fold.
Staring pointedly at her shoes.
Houses burn.
He clenches his fists and stuffs them back in his pockets forcefully. There is tension, and there is shame.
MAN
I never meant to.
WOMAN
If wishes were fishes.
MAN
I never wanted to.
WOMAN
So many fishes.
MAN
It wasn’t supposed to happen.
WOMAN
Then why?
MAN
(A beat.)
Pick a card.
WOMAN
What made you do it?
MAN
Pick a card.
WOMAN
(Increasingly irate) You thought it was okay?
MAN
Pick a card.
WOMAN
You thought I wouldn’t know?
MAN
Pick a card.
WOMAN
Did you love her?
MAN
(Stricken) Card.
WOMAN
Did you love me?
MAN
Can you forgive me?
WOMAN
Pick a card.
END OF PLAY
