Fragments and Gold.
To understand is to endure, and to endure is to live.
Scene 1: The Rain watcher
(The stage is dimly lit. A single spotlight falls on her sitting by a window, gazing out at the rain. The sound of soft drumming rain fills the theatre. The room is sparse - a chair, a table with an empty cup, and a suitcase leaning against the wall. She speaks, her voice quiet but carrying an undercurrent of yearning.)
She:
It felt like happiness finally found my address.
A guest I’ve been waiting for - so long, so endlessly long.
(She traces a finger along the windowpane, following the path of a raindrop.)
But when it arrived, I didn’t know how to play the host.
Even though my face wouldn’t show it, my heart knew. Oh, it knew.
(She stands and paces slowly, her voice steady but tinged with wonder.)
I kept looking at it, this visitor - this happiness - in admiration and awe.
Yet there was a flicker of fear now and then,
A whisper in the shadows of my mind:
“What if it’s too good to be true? What if it vanishes?”
(She pauses by the suitcase, resting a hand on its worn handle.)
But something in me - a stubborn ember - believed.
Believed this was forever and always.
(She sits again by the window, watching the rain with an almost childlike intensity.)
It felt like magnets drawn together, no matter how far apart they’d been flung.
Like moths to a flame, knowing the risk but unable to resist the pull.
(The sound of footsteps approaches offstage - a slow, deliberate rhythm cutting through the rain’s melody. She looks up sharply as a figure enters - a traveller wrapped in a coat and scarf, carrying an umbrella dripping with rainwater.)
Scene 2: The Oasis or the Mirage?
(The traveller shakes off his umbrella and sets it down near the door. He glances around before his eyes settle on her. There’s an air of quiet curiosity between them.)
Traveller: Mind if I sit for a moment? The rain’s relentless tonight.
She: (hesitant) Go ahead… It’s not my house anyway. Just passing through myself.
(The traveller sits across, pulling off his gloves and warming his hands by an invisible fire only he seems to feel.)
Traveller: Funny thing about rain - it cleanses and drowns all at once. You can’t tell if you’re being healed or washed away until it stops.
She: (half-smiling) Or if it ever stops at all…
(The traveller studies her for a moment, as though seeing something unspoken.)
Traveller: You look like someone who’s waiting for something - or someone.
She: (looking back out at the rain) I thought I was waiting for happiness… but now it’s here, I’m happy.
Traveller: So tell me about this happiness you’ve found.
She: It’s… different. Like an oasis in a desert I thought I’d never escape.
Traveller: (smiling gently) Ah, oases… beautiful things, aren’t they? And yet, oases can be illusions too, can’t they?
(She stiffens slightly at this but doesn’t look away from the window.)
She: Why can’t I leave the desert behind and build something permanent? A blooming garden… maybe even a small and cosy cottage? Isn’t that allowed?
Traveller: Allowed? Sure. But life doesn’t work on permission slips, it works on balance. You can dream of gardens all you want, but you’ll need to tend to your roots first… or they’ll never hold in any soil you find.
(Her heart sinks.)
She: Well, this soil can hold me. This soil will hold me. This soil wont let me slip and fall.
(The traveller leans forward slightly, his tone soft but firm.)
Traveller: To have a comfortable journey through life… you must reduce the baggage of expectations.
(She looks down at her hands, tracing invisible patterns on her lap.)
She: Expectations are heavy - I know that, but… why can’t this be real? Why can’t this be the first day of the rest of my life? Can’t broken heal broken?
(The traveller tilts his head, studying her as though weighing truths too delicate to speak.)
Traveller: Broken doesn’t heal broken. Broken needs glue. It needs care. Have you heard of Kintsugi? The Japanese art of repairing broken pottery with gold? It’s not about hiding the cracks - it’s about embracing them. Joining fragments together and making something more beautiful than before.
(She looks up at the traveller, hope flickering in her eyes.)
She: So… I could be gold?
(The traveller’s smile fades slightly - kindness laced with realism.)
Traveller: No, my darling. You are not gold.
She: But I could be gold one day? Some day?
Traveller: You are ordinary clay - beautiful in your own way but invisible without shine. And that’s okay too.
Scene 3: Parting Ways
(The rain begins to lighten outside as the traveller stands, picking up his umbrella again.)
She: So what are you saying? That I shouldn’t dream at all?
(The traveller pauses by the door, turning back with a thoughtful expression.)
Traveller: When was the last time you truly dreamed? Haven’t nightmares been your companions for as long as you can remember? You’ve lived so long in shadows that light feels foreign to you now. Admire happiness from a distance - but don’t try to touch what doesn’t belong to you.
(Silence stretches between them like an unspoken truth.)
Traveller: You understand how this works now… don’t you?
(Dejected, she nods slowly.)
She: The thing is… I always understand.
(The traveler opens the door and steps into the fading rain.)
Epilogue: The Weight of Rain
(The stage darkens completely except for a single spotlight on her as she stands alone by the window once more.)
She: To understand is a burden heavier than ignorance ever was.
But understanding is all I’ve ever known - my constant companion in a world full of fleeting guests.
Happiness came knocking once - just once - and though I opened the door wide…
I never dared step outside.
(She picks up her suitcase and walks toward the door as snow begins to fall softly outside.)
Perhaps one day I’ll learn not just to understand but to believe - to hope without fear of breaking again.
But until then… I endure.
(She steps through the door into the snow as the light fades completely.)
Curtain Falls
This was so beautiful and thought-provoking. The way the rain, happiness, and fear were woven into the scene really hit me. I especially felt that moment when she said she didn’t know how to play the host to happiness—so real and relatable. And that epilogue line about understanding being a burden just stayed with me.
Love it! 💜