"My four women from a dream”. Play on 7, 6, 5, 4 or 3 people

Lakutin Nikolay

DIMON (exquisitely): Well, when?

YAROSLAV: when What?

DIMON: When can I see a young lady in this house?

YAROSLAV: Oh, I don't know, Dimon. The question is certainly interesting, but I don't have an answer to it yet.

DIMON: Let me introduce you to Natasha's friend? She's been divorced for a long time, which means she won't miss another fool like that. Will love you as the most-the most… At least you will think so, as we all do.

YAROSLAV: Yes not… thank you of course, but as something need to this… in General, you can solve such issues yourself.

DIMON: Ooooh, well, how much did you do? What a mess you've made. A woman's hand, my friend, is needed in this house!

YAROSLAV: I Don't want to talk about it.

DIMON: Okay.

Pause.

YAROSLAV: Dimon…?

DIMON: Aya?

YAROSLAV: I think you're a cretin.

DIMON: A very interesting discovery.

YAROSLAV: No, I think I understand everything!

DIMON: What are you talking about?

YAROSLAV: Why didn't your wife have time to cook anything?

DIMON: Well?

YAROSLAV: your birthday is tomorrow, you fool! Here's Natasha and ran around looking for a gift, and you let all the dogs down on her.

DIMON (scratching his head): Damn, it looks like you're right. I'd forgotten all about it. By the way, come back tomorrow, we'll sit and celebrate.

YAROSLAV (unconvincingly): No, I have business there, in General, there is. If I can get away… But it is unlikely.

DIMON: Kapets, it was inconvenient. (Guiltily) I'll go smooth out the corners.

Dimon gets ready, dresses, shoes.

DIMON: Come on, this… tomorrow evening, if that (indicates with a gesture the invitation to the acceptance of alcohol).

Yaroslav shrugs his shoulders.

Dimon leaves.

Yaroslav wipes the floor clean, takes away a rag and a milk carton. He takes off his t-shirt and unties the shoelace, while exuding growls and incomprehensible vocabulary. He takes off his other foot, picks up a book from the table, reads for a while, puts the book down, and goes to bed with a blanket over his head.

ZTM.

1st DREAM

Plays quiet lyrical music (Maxim Timoshenko "Traces", or something similar).

The room becomes light.

Yaroslav is asleep. Light air step slowly is Aida. Loose garments do not constrain her movements, on the contrary, they give her elegance and a special tenderness.

Aida walks across the room, trembling, holding her hand to her chest, looking around the room. Whirls. Her eyes appear sleeping Yaroslav. She clasps both hands to her chest, looks at the man with a tender look, and sits down next to him on the bed.

Yaroslav feels some excess pressure on the bed. The hand begins to feel the place of the supposed changes. His hand meets the contours of the body of Aida, who calmly observes what is happening.

The music stops.

Yaroslav realizes that he is not alone on the bed. He opens his eyes, jumps up with a wild yell, and falls off the bed at the other end.

YAROSLAV (in a whining voice): Well, where are the sticks? I think I broke a rib.

He holds his side, stands up, and does not look at the girl, thinking that he is imagining it.

AIDA (gently): Don't worry, it's just a small bruise.

Yaroslav slowly turns around at the voice. Cautiously looks at the girl, disperses the air with his hand, in front of his face, driving away the remnants of sleep. Shaking his head doesn't help. He crawls onto the bed and slowly creeps on his knees to the other side, where Aida is sitting. He raises his hand and starts poking her cheek with his finger.

JAROSLAV (trembling with fear voice): Yeah well eelke-where Palki. How is that even possible? Girl, are you alive? I mean, it doesn't seem like it to me? I mean, where, how?

Yaroslav sits down on the bed in complete confusion.

AIDA (affectionately): Hello, my good.

YAROSLAV (cautiously, nodding his head): …St.

AIDA (gently): no, Yaroslav, I am not alive…

YAROSLAV (screaming hysterically, jumping up on the bed): What? No? I'm dead, right?

AIDA (gently): Yarik, calm down, please. You're not dead, I'm not dead either, but you're dreaming about me now. You are sleeping.

Yaroslav narrows his eyes in disbelief. He creeps up to Aida and again pokes her in the cheek with his finger.

AIDA (gently): This is not a very pleasant feeling…

Yaroslav pulls back.

YAROSLAV: AND how can I make sure that we are really in a dream right now?

AIDA (gently): If people knew how to be aware of themselves in a dream, and what they can do here, they would not come back voluntarily.

YAROSLAV: Why?

AIDA (gently): you will Find out… But it's too early. My visit to you is not related to this question.

YAROSLAV: which ONE? Who are you anyway?

AIDA (gently): My name is Aida. I…

YAROSLAV: a Figment of my imagination?

AIDA (gently): Perhaps it is easier for me to agree than to explain what I really am, because this will inevitably lead to questions about who you are.

Yaroslav listens carefully, but does not understand very well. Straining his ears and eyes. Waiting for something, shaking his head.

YAROSLAV: Listen, what's your name?..

AIDA (gently): Aida.

YAROSLAV: Yes, here I am… as something apparently with dream… I can't figure out what's going on.