written 4 years ago while in fear of the future and myself
V.O.
Dear friend…friend.
The young man is startled back to reality. He looks up towards the owner of the voice, who stands beside him and lets a little smile loose on his lips.
V.O.
Ptolemy, Tell me which maiden has stolen your heart this day.
We back away slowly and see that the young man, Ptolemy, is sitting at a table in a bookstore. We hear a medium level of whispers from surrounding conversations. In front of him are a hot cup of chocolate and a copy of Romeo and Juliet. The owner of the inquiring voice is a man who looks to be 24. His name is Malcolm.
Ptolemy: She has stolen it without invading my body with her aroma. She annexed it without overrunning my mind with her soft words or songs. Malcolm…Her name to me is unknown. I have not met her.
Malcolm sits down
Malcolm: This has progressed in severity from the last! Now, you lament over those who own no share in reality? How is this? What do you mourn?
Ptolemy: I cry for our tragic destiny. Though my gaze has yet to fall on her godly face, I have been struck by a vision of our shared future.
Malcolm: Your mind has crafted a vision of a tragic end with a creature you have not yet met?
Ptolemy: My mind? No, this prophesy comes from one more powerful than myself.
Malcolm notices the half read book in front of Ptolemy.
(sternly) Malcolm, please cease this redundant disbelief. Is it truly foreign to morn a love one has yet to know?
Malcolm: (aside) Shakespeare again? I do not loathe this monster enough to eschew my pleasure. I will play along. Tell me Ptolemy, what form does your lady take in your mind’s eye; for indeed, it IS possible to leave space in one’s heart for great love and tragic loss.
Ptolemy: (soft smile not showing teeth, slowly looks off into space, then starting in a low and slightly removed voice) The light’s reflection of her fair features is a dark spot for my worldly eyes my dear Malcolm. Directly, I cannot see her. But my heart knows her well. (slight pick up in intensity of voice) I know of her physical beauty through her vast possession of qualities. My heart tells me that her walk is peppered by her love of the arts. Her body strides to the soft melody of a saddened violin that blesses every gazing person with awe. Her facade is glorious to absorb because her gowns are perfumed with the sensual colors of Alaagy’s painting of our “Common Ground.” Wisdom of life’s mysteries gives my true love’s eye’s their glow. (less removed and a bit of excitement in the voice) In a room open to Heaven’s fire, they shine brighter still. Orbs of heat sustained by a vigorous examination of her very life! (with a slight chuckle) Malcolm, the instrument that gathers her air is kept short by her honest words. She never knowingly lies. In conversations, her lips form a playful and infectious smile always, for she is wise enough to know that the wisest know nothing. (laughs, then gathering a bit of composure) I know of her wondrous form Malcolm. In my mind’s eye, she radiates a beauty sparked and continued by her character. (low, reflective, and removed voice) My lady’s radiance lights the days in my heart...