SON: ¿Donde esta el baño?(It has been four years since SON has been home. He joined the army after an argument with his father over his inheritance of land. He learned of his father's murder while on the front line against the rebels. Reluctant, he must now enter the house as a man.)MOTHER: (hanging up a pair of stockings) Mi casa es su casa.(The guitar picks up intensity as both realize the truth in the MOTHER's words. The SON, overcome, falls to the ground and weeps. The stars flicker.)SON: ¡Madre!(He cries to the sky like a wolf searching for a moon that never comes.)MOTHER: ¡Mi Hijo!(She drops to the ground. Her fall broken by the dirt that she has tread for the last fifty years.)
Wednesday, August 18, 2010
Narrative in Eighth Grade Spanish in the Style of Frederico García Lorca.
Here's a gem from McSweeney's: