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jobs

Sue: Is that you Gary?

Gary: Aye

Sue: You're in then, yes?

Gary: Aye

Sue: Is it nice out?

Gary: What?

Sue: Nice?

Gary: No

Sue: Did you get a job?

Gary: No

Sue: What?

Gary: No

Sue: Why no?

Gary: Don't know

Sue: What!?

Gary: Aye

Sue: If you don't get a job i'll have to move back in with the crickets

Gary: Damn you mum, damn you to tarnation. Was man sculpted from such terrible clay only to live out his waking hours toiling in factories and fields? What God bothered his hand for man? What tormenting creator filled our heads and our dreams with such fantastic things so that we may never realise them? A job? A job!? No, while my frail body may only achieve frail deeds shackled to the chain gang of society; my soul it flys. Love does not know nine to five, passion does not know nine to five, my sweet mother - I do not know nine to five. While held in the mercy of his bosom, Time allowed me to think not of careers. My younger self dreamed not of the work force but of the stars and the planets of adventures and most of all about love. Did I grow old only to let these dreams die? Truely man does not grow old, he grows tired. I am very tired now. There is no job for me, no job that will do anything but crush my soul. That boy that I once was has died and so have the golden days of summer in which he sang. Now I am dying too. A job - no! A job - no.

Sue: What?

Gary: Aye

Sue: Give me a hand with these snus, we've only got two left - when they're done we'll have to fight to the death to see who eats the other.

Gary: Aye

-Extract from the play "Job box" by Shrivel Nelson

Posted at 14:43, 26th January 2010