Page 8 - Litterateur March 2021
P. 8

Following the dream



               -  I  rehearsed  a  lot  yesterday,  my  neighbour,"  he  said,

               running  into  the  room  before  me  because  of  the  cold,


               warming up by the stove.  - It didn't work. It did not fit. At

               that moment I said to myself:

               "How  can  I  rehearse  like  that,  in  the  evening?  I  have  to

               rehearse in the morning, waking up early. I think that's the

               right decision. Because last night I repeated the monologue


               of  the  wretched  king  in  the  last  scene  four  times.  It  was

               unsuccessful.  And  this  morning  my  rendition  of  your

               humble servant was much better."

                   As he said that, he rubbed his hands together.

                 - May I sit on the chair? - The neighbour continued.

               His body seemed  warming up and he moved away from the


               stove.    -  "Look.  I  was  sitting  like  that.  Not  upright.  A  bit

               hunched over-because that's how King Lear sits. He's old,

               exhausted.  His  hands  are  always  shaking.  That's  why  he

               can't hug his daughter's dead body tightly. What's more -

               he  opens  his  eyes  wide,  not  wanting  to  believe  its

               lifelessness."


                   He  opened  his  eyes  as  he  wished,  pulling  out  a  badly

               crumpled  piece  of  paper  from  his  jacket’s  pocket.  Finally

               assuming  the  position  of  King  Lear,  he  began  to  recite  a

               sorrowful monologue, glancing at the piece of paper.

               -  "I  have  some  shortcomings  to  work  on,"-  he  said  as  he


               finished his monologue.

               -"Mostly  I'll  have  to  work  on  this  last  scene.  That's  the

               hardest part."
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