The Secret (A very short play)

Archive Fiction

It’s 2018, late fall. Two friends meet in an enclave of Central Park known to contain a sonic dead spot, where conversation can’t be overheard. It’s dusk.




M: What? What is it?

K: It’s a forbidden thing. I have tried everything–

M: Nothing is forbidden here, stop worrying.

K: I’m sad. I got so sad today.

M: (Looks around.) Just be real quiet.

K: They can’t hear us here.

M: Ok.

K: The feeling was so strong and it would not go away no matter what I did.

M: Did you cry?

K: I did.

M: Did anybody see you?

K: No.

M: It’s ok. It happened to a woman in my building and was caught on camera and still nothing happened. You’re be ok.

K: It’s been 11 years since my Mom died–

M: Transitioned. There is no death.

K: OK. Since my mom transitioned from being somebody who I could see and hear to somebody I–

M: Yes I get it.

K: She used to tell me it was ok to cry.

M: Alot of people were confused before the revolution. You can still love them.

K: I’m exhausted. I tapped six different combinations and–

M: Do you want to tap now?

K: No. I wanted to confess.

M: We all have illusions of pain but it’s only your ego trying to lure you.

K: Are you sure?

M: What do you mean am I sure? Of course I’m sure.

K: How do we know that? Everybody seems to know that that’s the case but I can’t work out how we know that.

M: Your ego will cause you to question everything. We’re very close to Ego Museum. [Formerly The Met.] Do you want to go?

K: No it’s ok. I feel better. Thank you. Really I do.

M: You sure?

K: I’m sure.

M: Ok good. (looks at device) I’m going to try to make it to a 6 o’clock Clearing class. Give me a hug.

They hug.

M: Love you honey.

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