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Update the-mirror-dirge/1. first-parable.md

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mayday 2026-01-11 09:37:01 -06:00
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the-mirror-dirge/1. first-parable.md
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### FIRST PARABLE: The best armor is to never be where they're looking.
*(The graveyard, at night. Center stage, a grave. A little behind it, a stool has been set up for a mourning--a speaker, though, is conspicuously absent. Ten candles sit, lit, upon the stool, around a music box, playing a faint tune.)*
*(Enter THE GRAVEDIGGER. Battered and weathered, but still fresh-faced. He carries his shovel like a tool, not a burden.)*
*THE GRAVEDIGGER, to the audience.*\
*GRAVEDIGGER, to the audience.*\
Death is the most infinite violence. This is, perhaps, why for all of history, everything has that has ever lived has dreamt of something after. They dream, because they need believe the lie that when they kill another, they just go...somewhere else.
It feels true, when I bury them. They can die peaceful or they can die violent, they can die of age or pen-stroke on ledger or sword, and it's all the same.
Whomever once held that body is not there anymore.
*(He stabs his shovel into the dirt, the light on him goes out. TEN MOURNERS approach, from the left and right, and speak, illuminated from below one by one.)*
*(He stabs his shovel into the dirt, the light on him goes out. TEN MOURNERS approach, from the left and right, taking candles from the stool, and speak, illuminated from below one by one.)*
*MOURNER 1*\
If only it hadn't happened this way.
@ -43,7 +45,7 @@ And now, they are gone.
*(The lights on the MOURNERS go out. They bow their heads, and go silent.)*
*THE GRAVEDIGGER, picking up his shovel, to the audience.*\
*GRAVEDIGGER, picking up his shovel, to the audience.*\
They know death, intimately. None of the mourners have bloodless hands. To kill another is stock in trade, and yet...
*(The light on him goes out again. THE MOURNERS are illuminated as they speak.)*
@ -69,7 +71,7 @@ _When_ you die, I will grieve. Just as I shall grieve the rest of you.\
*(BEAT. One by one, THE MOURNERS exit. THE GRAVEDIGGER is illuminated once more.)*
*THE GRAVEDIGGER shakes his head, leans on the shovel.*\
*GRAVEDIGGER shakes his head, leans on the shovel.*\
Goodbye, old friends. Glory was too strong a lure for you. To be in the spotlight...
A legend lasts as long as it's spoken, but that will not matter to your rotting corpse.