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Jane's Story
keatsara Released Dec 11, 2010
Jane’s Story
By
Sara Keats
ACT I
Scene 1
The scene shifts in time and space fluidly, and
there are no set changes. Anya is simultaneously
telling stories at the children’s library and in
conversation with Jane at various points in their
relationship. Jane functions as a narrator and
speaks to the audience directly, as if she were
telling a story like Anya is, only to adults, not
children. She too often breaks off to converse
with Anya, ignoring the audience. *Italics
indicate a character speaking to other character,
non-italics is to the audience or an unseen group
of children.
ANYA
It began on dark winter’s night...
JANE
All of her stories started this way.
ANYA
..the snow fell gently about a far away house...
JANE
Always the winter. No one was haunted in summer I
guess.
ANYA
...where there lived a man and a woman...
JANE
This too was constant, man and woman in the house, man
and woman in the snow. I asked her about it once,
whispered it to her late at night in bed. I said, How
come its a never two women?
ANYA
Oh, don’t politicize it, babe.
(She kisses Jane playfully)
JANE
She would say. But I couldn’t help it.
ANYA
...lived a man and woman and their baby, whom they
loved very very much...
JANE
The first few lines of the story were always so fucking
happy. I felt bad for them, this man, woman and baby,
so happy, and then again and again, one dark night...
ANYA
One dark night...
JANE
As if there were nights that weren’t dark
ANYA
...there was a knock on the door...
JANE
A knock on the door of the house in the woods with the
man the woman and the baby and probably a dog, though
we never heard about him.
ANYA
...and behind it...
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info
spring is for leaving;
there is a glory
to it, then
versus the winter
wherein we roost
upon our discontent
swallow,
sleep and fatten
wary of roasting
on our excess,
we ruffle our untidy
...
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I've been sitting here for forty-three years now, and if you think that's long you must not talk to many houses.
No, I'm a youngin', this'll only be my forty-fourth winter. You'd...
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