OH TELL ME I YET HAVE A FRIEND

                                     # 24 in a series of daily one-act, one scene plays

[ACT I, Scene I: an island castaway sits on a rock. The gutted wreck of his ship is beached to the left. To the castaway's right is a seagull]

CASTAWAY: So, what should we have for dinner tonight?

SEAGULL: Screech, screech, screech.

CASTAWAY: Boiled sargassum again? A fine choice. I concur.

SEAGULL: Screech, screech, screech.

CASTAWAY: I agree, it is weird that my only friend is a seagull. I try not to dwell on it. Sometimes when we talk, I wonder if this is another heat stroke delirium. Last time I fainted, I imagined I was back home at my favorite diner. I'm going to pretend that that's reality, and that this is all just a fevered dream.

SEAGULL: Screech, screech, screech.

CASTAWAY: You would say that.

[neither speaks; all that is heard is the rolling surf]

                                    (curtain)