#37: Beans on Toast on the Floor

[A room in an urban nightmare. JERRY sits on a wooden stool. He is hunched over and has difficulty breathing. MARY’s on the other side of this small room with a pot and a flame.]

-Is it beans again, Mary?
-Yes
-Bring the salt and pepper over
-I managed to get some bread, Jerry.
-Well done. Where was that?
-You’re not going to like it
-I don’t mind the bins now. As long as it was wrapped
-We’re not beggars.
-We’ve still got this place.
-Don’t you forget it, Mary!
-I need the stool to reach for the plates
-My least favourite part of the day. Could we keep them on the floor?
-You know we can’t. They have to be high up.
-Give me a minute
-Take your time. Although it is only 4 days til Christmas
-Oh shush. Could you hold under my elbows?
-Yes
-Oh thank you dear.
-One
-Two
-Three.

[MARY helps JERRY to stand. She is too weak and he collapses.]

-Oh dear
-Ow. Oh no. Owww.
-I’m so sorry. Are you ok, Jerry? Is it your knees?
-Yes. Ow.
-They’re getting worse.
-Will you help?
-Shall we go back to the chair?
-What about the plates?
-One second

[JERRY lies on the floor, while MARY retrieves the plates.]

-We could have dinner down here
-On the floor?
-Yes, Mary.
-Is it comfy there?
-It’s easier than the stool. My back is breaking
-I think it’s your knees that will break you first.

[JERRY looks offended, but then he breaks out in a smile and then laughter. Uncontrollable laughter. MARY looks puzzled, but then joins him on the floor and starts giggling herself.]

[Through the laughter, we hear…]

-I love you, Jerry.

ENDS

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