Academic journal article TheatreForum

Angry Girl

Academic journal article TheatreForum

Angry Girl

Article excerpt








KOSTYA, her grandson







Street. Winter. A cold wind blows. Dima is in a good mood. He waits for a meeting in a predetermined place.

No change in the weather. An angry girl waits for a meeting on another street. Olya. You don't have to be able to read faces well. This girl really is angry.

Apartment. Denis and Alyona sit on a sofa, waiting for Dima to bring Olya to them.

Dima walks the street with Anton and Natasha, smiling as he tells them something.

The apartment. Denis and Alyona sit on a sofa, waiting for Dima to bring Olya to them. Denis turns his hand, looks at his watch.

Anton and Natasha freeze on the street, doing a little dance, near the entrance to their apartment complex.

In the entry of the apartment complex.

Dima leans on a banister and looks down the stairwell from the seventh floor. Dima smiles, listens to what someone is saying to him on the phone, agrees. [Photo 2]

DIMA: (Smiling:) Yeah-yeah, u-huh.

Anton and Natasha freeze on the street. Anton embraces Natasha, claps her on the back with a hand in a warm glove.

Kitchen. Denis stands by the sink and cuts oranges. Alyona is busy with her iPhone. Olya sits across the table from her. Like any other angry girl she feels exactly the same even in new company.

DENIS: (To Alyona:) Run a search for rum and cola or something.

At that moment, Olya accidentally knocks over a beer can and beer spills on the table.

DENIS: Don't worry! Don't worry!

Denis leaves kitchen. Olya looks around, frustrated, wants to wipe the table clean. Alyona pays no attention, she's busy looking for a recipe. Enter Denis with a rag.

DENIS: (Wiping table:) Really, don't worry!

ALYONA: Found it!

At this moment Denis's phone rings.

DENIS: Yeah?...Where are they? ... All right.

Denis leaves kitchen.

Olya's monologue in Denis and Alyona's apartment.

OLYA: All right, okay, thanks, the light's just what I want. A low angled lamp. Enough to illuminate the keys so I can see what I'm typing. And I like the room. I feel very independent in my room. I can turn on quiet music and get in a creative mood. Oh, that's not very comfortable... like that when the computer is on the chair like that, my neck gets a crick in it and my back starts to hurt. You have to change position. Put the computer on your knees. Nobody writes me on Facebook. I don't know what good all those faces are in that book. There's only my posts on my wall. I look at my own photos all the time, and reread my posts because I like the way I wrote them. But what's the point? I thought I might post some literary sketches on there, but who would read them? Some people have 300 friends on there. Lately I've been interested in collections. I'm putting together a series of my favorite art books. It's a really good series and I gave it a central place in my bookshelf. So I was thinking on Facebook I could collect my favorite songs in a recordings section. I'm kinda doing that little by little. But then I think when I have, I don't know, like, a thousand of them and more, what then? What for? Then out of those I can make a list of my more favorite stuff and then my most favorite stuff... But then you're just going backwards. When I go on somebody's page and I see 300 videos and 40 photo albums it's enough to make me sick... I think that's too much. How long would it take you to look at all that? And I don't even want to look at all. It's a lot more interesting when there's a couple of posts, a couple of albums and three songs. That says everything about somebody, you know what he likes. I have a black, shiny notebook and it has one problem. You can see all the fingerprints. I have to wipe it with a cloth all the time. Some crazy people love their computer so much they wear gloves when they work on it. …

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