Renew

by Angela Soriano
Sibol Summer 2019
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Angela Soriano

Dramatists Personae

EMBER Woman of fire. Creator of Shard.

SHARD Created from sand and brought to life by Ember.

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Act One
SCENE ONE

AT RISE: Curtains closed. EMBER sits on a desk; she is writing in her journal.

EMBER: I always though that you might be bad. Now, I’m sure that it’s true.

A beat.

EMBER: Someone told me that, you only get one guess. I don’t know why he told me
that or what prompted it. But, all things considered, I think he’s right. He
probably knows a lot more about me than I of him … and I created him.
Then again, maybe it is because that I created him that he knows me more than
myself. He told me that he knew the answers to the questions that I plague
myself with. I do not doubt him.

I have doubted a hundred more times than I have ever doubted his
consciousness. However, him being my creation, should I have doubted him
more? Another question, another non answer. The cycle continues.

Yes, with him, the cycle always continues. Perhaps it is time to see what today
brings. Lighting parted the clouds last night, creating a beautiful yet
dreadfully familiar picture in the sky. I fear that it might be an omen.

Blackout.

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SCENE TWO

AT RISE: SHARD is anxiously waiting for EMBER. Breakfast is laid on the table.

SHARD: Good morning Madame!

EMBER: Shard, you have more energy than the sun.

EMBER looks at the breakfast in distaste but picks up the coffee.

EMBER: A shame you use it for such trivial efforts. You know I don’t have time for
this.

SHARD: Please Madame! Just – please.

EMBER: Why?

SHARD: For me?

EMBER: That is not a good enough reason.

SHARD: (Sighing.) I just -- I have something to say.

EMBER: Can you not say it later?

SHARD: I want to – I need to say it now … please?

EMBER: (Sighs and sits down.) Fine. Make it quick.

SHARD: Thank you Madame.

EMBER: This better be worth my time.

SHARD: I know. (Silence)

SHARD takes a deep breath.

SHARD: I know that, I can never really be worth your time. Or worth anything, in your
eyes. I know. I am not that naïve.

But with that being said, you are my world.

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Awake or asleep, it is all the same. You will always be there. From my first
thought of the day, to my last. From the first day, my creation, you were there.
And as for my last day, I would die with you, surely? I would die for you,
surely?

I was happiest, naïve. But now I know better.

EMBER: (Bored.) Do you really?

SHARD: Yes! Because to you, I am nothing more than a speck of dust compared to the
world you live in. I am like one grain of sand on a beach among millions of
others. I can strive to be shinier than the others, but I would still end up
downtrodden by you.

There was a time where I knew that you though I was special. Don’t deny it! I
was! You brought me to a beach and you told me so! I remember it clear as
day! I was special, once upon a time.

EMBER: Once upon a time, you were nothing. Nothing but sand. Then my flame made
you into something, but that does not make you special.

SHARD: If I am nothing to you, then you wouldn’t have such a hard time letting me go.

EMBER: Do not look too deep into it, you’ll only be giving yourself false hope.

SHARD: Then what is it then? What am I to you? Eye candy? Walking decoration to
impress your nonexistent visitors? A servant, with no task of serving beyond
tea and biscuits?

EMBER: Is that so hard to believe?

SHARD: I don’t believe it. I refuse to. I must mean something. I must mean something
beyond what you made me for. Beyond you.

EMBER: Wrong. You mean nothing beyond me. Without me, you are fragile glass and
before that a sack of sand not distinguishable from a bigger pile of it. Without
me, you would not survive a day outside. Without me, you would shatter. You
are nothing beyond me.

SHARD: Yet, without someone with you here, you will feel alone. Right? Give me that.
Just let me believe at least that I am the someone who fills the silence from
time to time. Give me that at least.

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EMBER: Do not kid yourself. You say someone but you are a thing. And to me,
nothing. This is the reality you live it. Get it into your thick skull.

Sound of glass breaking. SHARD has a big gash on his chest, over his heart.

SHARD: Ah.

SHARD falls on his side. Glass shattering can be heard upon his impact on the floor.

EMBER: Not again. (Sighs.) I know that I said that you we’re nothing, but now you are
just an inconvenience.

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SCENE THREE

EMBER: Surely, that was not Shard. Or was it? I barely keep track nowadays.

I could have been Mosaic. He was the most beautiful yet the most broken
of them all. He had all the pieces of his predecessors in him, so he was not
able to start anew. He was always plagued by memories. Mosaic broke
himself
eventually.

Or maybe it was Ceramic. Feisty one, him. I think I burned him too hot. He
figured it out the fastest.

I think I will miss Shard, even just a little bit. You know, out of all of them,
he was the most empathetic. The most engaging. I think I’ll give the next one
a piece of him.

It wasn’t hard to not feel sorry. And I don’t think I’m in a position to do so.
But I think it is harder to remake the next one.

Someone told me that, once upon a time, I had cared. One summer day on a
beach. Or was it on a moonlit night in spring? I have already forgotten.

I am sorry I am the way I am, or maybe I am not. I have gone past caring.

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