Pocket

January 23rd, 2021

Starring: Trombonist (late 20’s), Linguist (late 20’s)

A small two bedroom apartment.  Linguist sits at the IKEA kitchen table, swimming in notebooks, textbooks, workbooks, all for studying a particular foreign language (whichever you imagine).  From the other room, the sound of a trombone, jazz riffing.  It goes on and on until it peters out.  The door opens.  Trombonist (the new subleaser) strolls into the kitchen, holding their trombone.  They go to the fridge and pull out a cold brew, popping the top.  Linguist looks up and gives a two finger wave, but seems tired/frustrated/miffed.  Trombonist tries to connect:

TROMBONIST

...am I too loud?

Because I can play softer...

LINGUIST

A soft trombone....isn’t that an oxymoron?

TROMBONIST

Really if it’s bothering you—

LINGUIST

No, it’s fine, it’s funny.  I wouldn’t want you to lose touch with the full experience.

TROMBONIST

I’m afraid I’m doing that to you.

LINGUIST

No worries, I’m acclimating.  I like it, actually.  A new soundscape for wordflow.

TROMBONIST

What are you reviewing?

LINGUIST

Nothing really.  I’ve concluded I can’t do it on paper anymore, I just need to speak it.  

You ever been so ready it’s reversing progress?

TROMBONIST

With this, I never feel prepared enough.  But I understand.  It’s time to get out there.

LINGUIST

It’s not though.

TROMBONIST

You are, I mean.  The world isn’t.  

LINGUIST

Their state department’s keeping international travel closed until mid-year, at best.  Even if I ended up going and staying like I planned, it’s not going to feel the same.  I won’t get the immersion I would’ve.

TROMBONIST

Eventually.  Eventually you will.

LINGUIST

I don’t know.

TROMBONIST

We’ve seen how fast change can move.  Things will swing back.  

LINGUIST

I hope.  

But I still feel like...this was it.  I had this one pocket to capitalize on what I could and wanted to do.  And now the pocket’s turned inside out, I don’t know if it’s worth stuffing back in anymore.  It doesn’t hold things the same way.  

TROMBONIST

Mhm.

I had just gotten first chair in our big band.  I was going to tour with an ensemble during Summer.  Finally planned to get my driver’s license.  Visit my uncle.

LINGUIST

Sorry

I don’t know why I act like I’m the only one whose dreams got smashed.  

TROMBONIST

You’re not.  Everyone thinks about their own mess.  

LINGUIST

I guess.  Just unsure of how to pick up the pieces.  

TROMBONIST

If it means anything...I’m not trying to.  

There’s nothing to do but keep practicing.  Wait and see.

uh 

I’ve got a Skype rehearsal.   But I’ll find you later?

LINGUIST

Thanks.  For um…

Yeah.  I’ll be here, so.

TROMBONIST

Okay

Peace.

Trombonist goes to the sink and lets loose the trombone’s spit valve, then spins back to their room.  The door closes, and a few moments later, the playing resumes, same volume.  Linguist looks down the hall, then down to a thick volume of vocab.  They pry it open and get back to work.

END OF PLAY

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