[two young men sit at a table, one with a paper, the other nursing tea, the fog around them is thick] Ramsey, Timothy

 

Timothy: As high as the ladder would climb.

 

Ramsey: Which ladder?

 

Timothy: We tumbled inside....

 

Ramsey: Indeed and hardened the whites of our eyes.

 

[Timothy looks up, the fog parts]

 

Timothy: The stars have arrived.

 

Ramsey: A start of an everlasting day....

 

Timothy: Take your thought train off, man

 

Ramsey: Through animals and slaves?

 

[Timothy laughs]

 

Timothy: He pulls them away....

 

Ramsey: Just as the curtains were raised, somebody asked anyway

 

Timothy: The lion is out of his cave [a sigh].

 

Ramsey: You don't say?

 

[Ramsey lifts his hand to the air]

 

Ramsey: And we all fell down as the weather man said....

 

Timothy: Weather man ....son of crooked rain [flicks his paper, turning the page]

 

Ramsey: Crooked rain, it grew on trees

 

Timothy: Grew on trees in the back of brains, you know....

 

[Ramsey smiles]

 

Ramsey: Even the devil would pay.....

 

Timothy: For half of a glass?

 

Ramsey: Oh yes....

 

Timothy: Why?

 

Ramsey: The crooked rain alone could only make him laugh.

 

 

 

[silence for a time]

 

 

 

 

 

Timothy: That face was never mine, Ramsey....

 

Ramsey: You don't say?

 

Timothy: And just as my buttons came off...

 

Ramsey: The buttons of your jacket?

 

Timothy: No, the muffled sounds...do you hear them?

 

[Ramsey listens, but shakes his head]

 

Ramsey: Just like a secret ....we will be found, my love.

 

Timothy: You think?

 

Ramsey: We are the circus....we are going to town [a grin]

 

Timothy: [shrugs] Lets not waste time then.

 

Ramsey: [nods] For the haze is never really made.... [the fog parts to reveal a quagmire, distant lights of a City twinkle through the din]

 

Timothy: Out here in Neverglade....

 

[Ramsey leans back in his seat]: Never.....glade....

 

Timothy: I'm going outside to chase the rain....and you're going to stay in the basement again.

 

Ramsey: There is a distant sound....of blood on those waves....look.

 

Timothy: Always....

 

Ramsey: Always....