3.4.2007: What Contains a Day (Good Things In Small Packages)

The Guy is here. He holds a small box.

The box is a metaphor – as objects and people often are in these plays. The box is what contains a day. Today, in point of fact.

The Guy is happy to have had this day, because it contained a lot of really great things. It was the kind of day that is best enjoyed by the person to whom it happened, alone, in the privacy of his office at 11:21 in the evening.

He especially enjoyed its conclusion.

And it is surprising to The Guy that so much can be contained in such a small space, because the box in his hands is not much to look at. But the happiness it contained, the possibility – these things feel too large and expansive to ever be contained in such a small space.

But The Guy considers that he, too, in the grand scheme of things, is an unimpressive box that holds multitudes. Contained within him is a succession of days like today, each one limitless, each one bursting at the seams with the possible, days that stretch out before him so far that right now, he cannot see their ending.

So it seems less impossible that this little box can contain a day like today.

He holds it in his hands as if he holds the fate of the world. And if not the world, then maybe his own.

Who knows?

The lights go down.