a picasso ideal .. . continued..

SETTING- New York City dock on Little West 12th street. Black sky, time is around 2AM. No snow, but cold. Lighted factory buildings and houses seen across the water, its New Jersey. Dock it relatively abandoned, except for the occasional boats but for it being New York City it’s relatively calm.

COLE interrupts ELLE’s oblivious state, she is seated on the dock with her feet hanging over the water, her stare is concentrated on a cigar case. He stands overlooking her fragile figure as the cold air declares its war

COLE
You came here without me?

ELLE
(defensive, but distant)
I want to be alone… leave

COLE
I knew you’d be here; the corner of the world for the insomniacs

ELLE
Not now … please… leave me here

COLE
(Assertive)
No, I want to stay with you

ELLE
I don’t want to hurt you

He nears her gently; he sits by her side on the dock his feet also dangle over the water next to hers

COLE
… You’re not her

ELLE
Not, yet… I read on this family picture frame how “family is the essence that helps define our very identity” … Cole, (pause, tone is softened) I don’t even wake up to myself in the mirror anymore

COLE
People don’t become monsters in their sleep

ELLE
You’re right, they’re born with the plague. (with strength in voice)

Demons give birth to demons. It dwells in their skin; in my skin… gathering power to overcome and invade my face.

(pause; tone weakens again)

Today, I stared in the mirror at its malevolence, as it tried to overlap onto my face and erase my identity. My mother’s face appeared in place of my own, her nose and cheekbones were already pasted onto my reflection, I saw her lean figure outlining my own, (pause; worried tone) she’s gaining force

COLE
No, Mirrors are the demons; they trap the vain in their egos and the weak in their self-consciousness; they lie, the way you lie to yourself only they call your lies avoidance

ELLE
(Defensive)
I’m not an avoider

COLE
You hide in your ideals and dreams, you hide from reality. That’s avoidance

ELLE
(soft tone)

Don’t you have ideals?

Elle unknowingly lets one of her hands rest from the grip she has on the cigar case. She places it in between her and Cole, letting it rest vulnerably in the cold

COLE
I have philosophies

ELLE
Philosophies don’t give me peace; Ideals keep me safe from it all; keeps me believing that there is something more then cold nights spent in fear. That it exists.

COLE
That what exists?

{too be continued}