All my life I have had this recurring dream. It’s late at night and I’m running across a field during a lightening storm. My mom and dad and my brothers are with me. And lightening is exploding all around us. Everyone knows to lay down on the grass. Everyone, but me.
PASCAL:
Ladies and gentlemen, distinguished colleagues, friends. My purpose here today is to demonstrate a new surgical procedure which will change, nay, has already changed the treatment of… oh, let’s say, nervous disorders. No, let’s not say that. Messy term. Let’s call
ACT 1, SCENE 1:
Letterbox reveals VICKY.
Vicky “January 1864. Dear Mama, War with Denmark is a mistake, caused by the uncontrolled power of an unprincipled man.”
Distant cannonfire. Boom
Vicky “June 1866. War with Austria is deliberatel concocted. Bismarck uses conflict to unite the German peoples.”
Korba had a smart frock on, on the very day that her husband caught a troll. That fact would have no relationship to the other until you understand that Korba was wearing a frock that had been given to her, not by her husband as one might have hoped, but by a pharmacist whose motives in the affair were just that, to motivate an affair!
Can’t you see my broken heart? It’s torpid. It’s slowly beating. It’s still bleeding. Maybe you can see her, though. She’s beautiful, isn’t she? Maybe I should render for you the quickly passing, tempered and fluctuous hot story we had together…or maybe we should just look again.