strata (n.) pl. of stratum - 2. a level of society composed of people of similar social or economic status.

On one side of the stage, LEADER who speaks by himself. On the other side of the stage, five or more people comprising the GROUP who speak as one. LEADER bangs a gavel.

LEADER

Are we met?

GROUP

We are.

LEADER

First order of business is the role call. Please signify your presence with a 'here.' Richard?

GROUP

[all speak]

Here.

LEADER

Michael?

GROUP

Here.

LEADER

Andrew?

GROUP

Here.

LEADER

Douglas?

GROUP

Here.

LEADER

Anna?

GROUP

Here.

LEADER

Arthur?

GROUP

Here.

LEADER

Roger?

Pause. No response.

LEADER

[again]

Roger?

Nothing.

LEADER

ROGER!

ROGER
[who has been quietly sleeping in the back of the group; stands suddenly]

Oh. Sorry. Here.

Pause: a dangerous pause.

LEADER

We're watching you, Roger.

The GROUP turns and looks at him, all at once, as if one. ROGER sinks back into the group, under the power of their stare. All eyes back to LEADER.

LEADER

Sarah.

GROUP

Here.

LEADER

Louis.

GROUP

Here.

LEADER

And myself.

GROUP

Here.

LEADER

Good. This meeting is called to order.

Bangs gavel. Black out.

bifurcation (v.) - the division or separation into two parts or branches.

A woman sitting in a chair, knitting. Her hands remain moving throughout the whole speech, independent of what she is saying, no matter what her intensity or her passivity, the rhythm of her hands remains the same, constant.

WOMAN

In my life, the hardest thing I ever had to deal with, was when my husband left me for another woman. I had expected it, of course, in some way that I cannot truly understand or explain. He had never given me any reason to be suspicious, but perhaps it was that lack of any reason which made me most suspicious. His affectation was always one of a doting and devoted partner and lover, but it was only that--affectation. A pretense. Something put on. [pause] No one else saw through it but me. My friends said that I was out of my mind. That I was paranoid. That I was looking for signs of betrayal when there were none to find. They said that I was afraid of believing that someone could love me, be true to me. Why would I be afraid of that? Nonsense! My sisters thought that I was becoming my mother, that I was going to drive him away in the same way she had driven away our father. Nonsense! And she had had every right to drive him away. I hadn't seen it then, but I could now. His innocent friendships. His late nights! The flowers. The apologies. He would beg her, demand that she be reasonable, that she see that she was imagining it, that his infidelities were only a fiction in her mind! That he loved her and only her. But aren't those the very arguments of the guilty man, guilty with the sin of his deviation, deviation from his vows, his promises, his, his...[pause; the rhythm of her knitting remains constant, unchanged; a change in her voice, somewhat calmer, softer] The same was true of my Howard. [with spite and venom] My Howard. As if he was ever mine. As if any man is ever any woman's. There is a sickness in their sex. A dis-ease. A dis-order. [again, more passive, calm] The same was true of Howard. He would come to me on bended knee, kiss the inside of my hand, bury his head in my lap and cry tears, real tears, tears that revealed to me his passion, his passion for me, his love, his devotion! [again, bitter anger] Tears of an actor! A trained actor! Trained in lies, deception, and the art of persuasion. [soft] But you believed him, didn't you? You believed him, or at least wanted to believe him--[again, bitter] Wanted to! Wanted to but didn't! [again, soft, regretful] Wanted to with all my heart. [bitter] But not your brain! Never your brain! Never your mind, your intelligence, your wits! [soft] My feelings. [hard] Feelings! Weakness! Un-suffer-able weakness! The weakness of woman! [soft again, with deep regret] The love between two people... [bitter] The deceptions of man! [softer still] ...and the loneliness of being alone. [pause] The loneliness. [long pause, through with the pace of her hands continues, unchanged, in stark contrast to the turbulence of her speech; when she speaks again it is with a more moderate tone] Did I make a mistake? Was I too hard on him? Did I drive him away? Could he no longer suffer the cruelty of my suspicions? Did he leave me--or did I...leave him? [pause] No. [pause] No! He. Left. Me. For her. Just like they all do. [pause] Just like they all do. [looking up] You'll see. It will happen to you, too. It will happen to all of you. And then you'll be just like me. Just like everyone. Alone. [that softness returns again, tears?] Alone.

She sits in silence, except for the sound, as she continues knitting, with that same steady hand, as the lights go down.

discursive (adj.) - covering a wide field of subjects; digressive.

At rise, a middle aged man, SIMON sits behind desk with a large sign that says "Information," reading a newspaper. Another man, BOB enters, walking up to the desk, clearly lost.

SIMON

[at the newspaper]

You don't say.

BOB

Excuse me...

SIMON

[to Bob; referring to the paper]

Did you know that there are more people alive at this moment than have ever lived?

BOB

[stopped in his tracks]

I...no, I didn't know that.

SIMON

It really boggles the mind doesn't it?

BOB

I suppose...seems a bit obvious really.

SIMON

[pause; looks up, slightly perturbed by this comment]

Can I help you?

BOB

[politely]

Oh, yes. Well, I need some information...

SIMON

[towards the sign above his head]

Obviously.

BOB

[still politely, more so even]

Oh, yes...well...I see. Yes.

SIMON

This would be the place to be. For information.

BOB

Of course.

Pause.

SIMON

Well?

BOB

[at a loss]

Well?

SIMON

What sort of information would you like?

BOB

Oh, yes. I need to know...

SIMON

Because you obviously weren't happy with the information I gave you.

BOB

[pause; at a loss again] Yes? What information was that?

SIMON

The information I gave you about there being more people alive in the world at this very moment than there have ever been at any other time in the history of mankind!

BOB

Yes...

SIMON

Or womankind.

BOB

Yes...

SIMON

Or any other kind for that matter.

BOB

I'm...[slight pause] I'm sorry, but...if I said anything to offend you.

SIMON

[terse]

Oh no. No, no, no. No. Why should I be offended.

BOB

Oh good.

SIMON

I mean, why would anyone be offended. Just because they offered up what they thought was a perfectly good piece of vital information, information that they thought would be of use, only to be told, quite abruptly, that no, that information was, was...[pause]

BOB

Obvious?

SIMON

Obvious. OBVIOUS! And of course, it IS obvious. It's downright common knowledge to a person of your intelligence, your cognition, your worldly experience, your height, your stature, your omnipotence!

BOB

Omniscience.

SIMON

What?

BOB

[helpful]

I think you meant omniscience.

SIMON

[after a pause; dangerous]

What?

BOB

You see, omniscience means all knowing, which was along the lines of what you were getting at, while omnipotent means...

SIMON

Get out!

BOB

I only wanted to...

SIMON

Get the hell out of here before I kick your discursive ass out of here myself!

BOB

I only wanted to know what platform the 11:35 train to...

SIMON

I said GET OUT OF HERE! NOW!!!

BOB leaves, quickly, almost bumping into MICHAEL who is entering from the direction BOB had originally entered. SIMON stands, huffing and puffing with anger. MICHAEL approaches the desk.

MICHAEL

Excuse me?

SIMON

What do you want?

MICHAEL

I was wondering if you would tell me...

SIMON

What?

MICHAEL

...what time the next train to Springfield leaves?

Pause; SIMON stares at him, stone still.

SIMON

Did you know there are more people alive at this moment than have ever lived?

Pause; MICHAEL stands there, not knowing what to say, caught in SIMON's unflinching gaze.

SIMON

Well? [pause] What do you think of that?

MICHAEL

It's...interesting.

SIMON

Interesting?

MICHAEL

Yes. I'd...never thought of it like that.

SIMON

Mmm. [pause] 11:00.

MICHAEL

Yes?

SIMON

The train. To Springfield. 11:00.

MICHAEL

Oh. Yes.

SIMON

[sitting back down behind the desk]

Better hurry, or you'll just miss.

MICHAEL

Oh. Yes. Thank you very much.

SIMON

[back in the newspaper]

Don't mention it.

MICHAEL exits, hastily. SIMON goes back to the newspaper.

SIMON

[to the newspaper]

You don't say.