A couple, sitting on a couch. They’re not talking or looking at each other. They seem bored. He starts looking for something, but can’t find it.
Him – Have you seen the remote? It’s disappeared…
She looks at him, surprised.
Her – But… we don’t have a TV anymore!
Him – Oh right, that’s true…
Silence.
Him – What would you do if I disappeared?
She looks at him, puzzled.
Her – Like the remote?
Him – No, not like the remote! I mean… if I disappeared. You know what I mean.
Her – Are you feeling all right?
Him – Yes, yes, I’m fine. It’s just hypothetical.
Her – Don’t you have a more cheerful hypothetical?
Him – I’m older than you. I’ll probably go first.
Her – There’s only three years between us.
Him – Women live longer than men! And I could have an accident. A heart attack. Cancer.
Her – So could I!
Him – Yes, but I asked the question first.
Her – I don’t know. There’ll be time to think about it.
Him – Better to be prepared…
She looks at him, confused.
Him – I mean… better to plan ahead.
Silence.
Him – Anyway, just so you know, I’d rather be cremated.
Her – Why are you telling me this now?
Him – Well, I’m not going to tell you after, am I? (Pause) That’s my biggest fear, being buried alive. Isn’t it yours?
Her – That probably doesn’t happen very often.
Him – Once is enough.
Her – And being burned alive, doesn’t that worry you?
He looks at her, concerned.
Him – I hadn’t thought of that… (Pause) Do you think there’s life after death?
Her – Would that really be a good thing…?
Him – You wouldn’t have to worry about money, you know…
Her (surprised) – You mean if there’s life after death?
Him – If I disappeared!
Her – Oh, right… I wasn’t worried.
Silence.
Him – I wouldn’t blame you if you remarried.
Her – Thank you.
Him – Well, you wouldn’t have to get married.
Her – Who, exactly?
Him – You and him. The guy you’d end up with. Might as well keep your independence.
Her – What independence?
Him – It’s funny, though. I can’t really picture you with another guy.
Her (offended) – You think no one else would want me?
Him – No, no, quite the opposite. Actually, I think I’d be jealous.
Her – When you’re dead, you’d be jealous?
Him – Yes…
Her – And what if I died before you?
Him (caught off guard) – That’s different. (Pause) If I ended up with someone else, would you mind?
Her – I wouldn’t be there to see it.
Him – But you’d be jealous…?
She looks at him suspiciously but doesn’t answer.
Him – Who could you see me with?
Her – You want me to introduce you to a friend, just in case, is that it?
Him – Well, for kids you’ve got godparents… For MPs, you’ve got substitutes. If one dies or resigns, there’s already a replacement lined up. It’s part of the plan.
Her – Yeah… Like spare tyres. In case of a puncture… (suddenly worried) You’re not telling me you’ve already found a replacement… are you?
Him – Well, it’s not that easy, you know…
Silence.
Him – The good thing about bigamy is that if someone dies, you’re only half a widower.
She stares at him, stunned.
Her – Right…
Black.
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A sketch from the collection Him and Her
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