Jealousy

The interior of an early morning dream.

Bach: Cello symphony. Jaqueline du Pres.

A man and a woman, partially seen; happy, joyous, free.

He wakes up. Screaming.

‘No!’

The dark side of the dream.

A heavy glass ashtray smashing into a wooden coffee table

and bouncing into a television screen.

The ashtray shatters, leaving a deep scar on the woman’s grandmother’s coffee table.

The woman’s voice heard from within the realm of blackout.

‘I can’t reach you.’

Falling, falling, falling, falling.

Mozart: Music for glass harmonica.

A figure in a white lab coat leaning over a child’s cot.

The sound of an arriving ambulance mixes with splintering crashing sounds

a door is kicked in by a coppers boot.

Blue lights flash across a drug swept floor.

An ambulance door shuts. The vehicle races from country to town.

Mozart continues as our man wakes up once more on a hospital trolley.

A white coated doctor turns and leaves.

There is a razor blade in a dish next to the trolley.

The man bites through the plastic safety guard

he pokes out the shining blade on his tongue.

A prison officer looms out of the ether.

‘Cut downwards if you want to die.’

Long wet jumper sleeves dripping large quantities of blood trail across the hospital floor.

The woman wakes up. An abstract painting is reflected in her wardrobe mirror.

‘My love is stronger than death. Please forgive me grannie.’

Note

Iago is a junkie.

Stop.