Three Nights in Paris
Kate Jones © 2012
Bed and pillows are taped out on the house right wall, near the pillar in the second row. Nicole stands next to the pole, Dan stands to Nicole’s left; both are holding a blanket up so that it looks like they’re in bed.
1: This tape represents the dimensions of a normal full sized mattress.
2: I am [approximately] his size.
1: And I am [approximately] her size.
2: A bed of this size was in an apartment they shared.
1: One block from the Eiffel Tower.
2: Two friends, on vacation.
1: Just friends.
2: Three nights in the city of love, the city of lights.
1: They made chocolate volcano cakes.
2: Clinked Cotton Candy Cocktails.
1: Walked arm in arm along the Seine.
2: Daydreamed about their next adventure.
1: But each night, when they climbed into bed
2: He was at the edge. (Turn body to L, head looks L unless delivering a line)
1: And she was pressed up against the wall. (Turn body to R, head looks R unless delivering a line.)
2: Polite with pillows and blankets.
1: Cautious not to kick, or accidentally spoon
2: Three nights in bed, and they never once touched.
1: She thought, ‘if anything was going to happen, it would happen in Paris.’
2: She’s not convinced he was thinking at all.
1: The victims of over thinking it so much…
2: That they were both paralyzed with fear.
1: (pause) Nothing happened in Paris.
2: (pause) Something happened in Paris.
Both turn to face the audience, hold hands behind the blanket.
1: The ‘something’ being the realization that they both wanted more than nothing.
2: That maybe they should try it, before they give up on it.
1: They haven’t shared a bed since they got back.
2: But one assumes they probably will.
1: (Turning to Dan) Who assumes that?
2: Well… She wrote the play.
Drop the blanket to reveal holding hands, smiling at the audience.
OWN the book!
We put together 225 of our favorite plays from our ever-growing archive of work from Too Much Light Makes the Baby Go Blind.