The Man Who Plays the Saddest Music sits in a chair center stage. He is doing what he does best – a mournful longing tune emanates from his instrument (in my mind, it’s probably a cello.)
The Guy appears.
THE GUY
That’s beautiful.
THE MAN WHO PLAYS THE SADDEST MUSIC
Thank you. It comes from the heart.
THE GUY
You must be miserable.
THE MAN WHO PLAYS THE SADDEST MUSIC
I don’t notice much. There’s music to be played.
THE GUY
I envy anyone who can play an instrument. I used to. But it wasn’t a very romantic, sexy one – I played the trombone.
THE MAN WHO PLAYS THE SADDEST MUSIC
Not really romantic, no.
THE GUY
I don’t play anymore.
THE MAN WHO PLAYS THE SADDEST MUSIC
Gifts are never gone completely. You should pick something up, give it a try.
THE GUY
I just might do that.
A pause, where the Guy listens to the music. It really takes you out of where you are and sends you to someplace where you might recall that your heart had been broken.
THE MAN WHO PLAYS THE SADDEST MUSIC
It takes it out of me and sends it out into the world.
The sadness.
It comes through my blood
up through my skin
out through my fingertips
and finds it way across the bow and the strings
and when the note gets shaped
the sadness rides it like a wave out to sea
and it disappears.
It’s the only way one can survive in the world.
THE GUY
I have a sadness that will not let me go.
THE MAN WHO PLAYS THE SADDEST MUSIC
Play the music however you can.
Let it go.
It’s never worth the trouble.
The Guy considers. He assumes the position to play an imagined cello. He sends the imagined bow across the imagined strings and a note reverberates throughout the theatre.
He begins to play. The song is lovely.
The Man Who Plays the Saddest Music realizes it’s time for him to go. He takes his instrument up and leaves.
The Guy plays on, and we see a leap take place. A shift. He is thinking of someone. The sadness rides out to sea and there’s only the thought of how nice it will be to hug him again.
The lights go out.
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