Breakfast In Bed

<p dir="auto"><em>A couple lay in bed. It is early, and the birds are singing. As the light fills the room through the open blinds, the woman slowly wakes, turning toward the man and wrapping her arms around him. He stirs and grabs her hands, kisses them. There is a number of ways to show the intimacy between them, but it certainly is a scene of cosiness and familiar love. On the bedside table is a vintage calander clock with large white letters and numbers, clearly visible to the audience. The clock reads is February 14. It is 6.30 am. <p dir="auto"><strong>River (mumbles sleepily): Coffee? <p dir="auto"><strong>Stone: Does the pope shit in the woods? <p dir="auto"><em>River rises, looks at the clock, and then moves off stage. There is the sound of a kettle being turned on, mugs pulled from the cupboard, eggs frying, the kettle boiling, and various other kitchen sounds. Stone is still fast asleep. <p dir="auto"><strong><em>River (appears on stage, whispering. She again looks at the clock.): Babe, wake up. <p dir="auto"><strong><em>Stone (sleepy, disorientated and confused): Wait - what? Breakfast? What did you do? Are these the eggs of a guilty conscience? Did you sleep with Roger again? <p dir="auto"><strong><em>River (laughes briefly, semi-tolerantly): I will if you don't wake up and take this plate off me. <p dir="auto"><em>He sits up fast, grabs the coffee from her and places it on the bedside table. River places the plate beside it where yellow eggs glisten on top of thick slabs of toast. She smiles. <p dir="auto"><strong><em>Stone: What’s up? Why are you spoiling me? <p dir="auto"><strong><em>River: No reason. Just love you, is all. <p dir="auto"><em>Again, she looks to the clock. She climbs into bed and instantly splashes her coffee on the doona. He laughs as she swears and grabs a towel to dab it up. <p dir="auto"><strong><em>Stone: Twenty lonnnnnng yeeeeaaaars. <p dir="auto"><em>He says it jokingly. The words are drawn out as if he is being patient, as if he has put up with her spilling coffee on the bed before. <p dir="auto"><strong><em>Stone: Don’t spill crumbs on the sheets. <p dir="auto"><strong><em>River: I won’t! <p dir="auto"><em>She is annoyed and snaps at him, as if she had expected him to reprimand her. The plate on her lap tilts onto the doona and a piece of toast slides onto the bed. <p dir="auto"><strong><em>Stone: For fuck’s sake, babe! <p dir="auto"><strong><em>River: Sorry! Sorry! <p dir="auto"><em>She begins to sweep crumbs, but he is clearly annoyed. The mood is tense, as if there are small storms passing an otherwise peaceful morning. He is foccussed on eating and checking his phone, she on her coffee. She looks at the clock often, but he doesn't notice. There is an awkward silence between them, the scrape of cutlery against plates, the cups being lifted and placed again on the bedside tables, until breakfast is done. <p dir="auto"><strong><em>Stone: Babe, I’m sorry - just you know I hate crumbs in the bed. <p dir="auto"><strong><em>River: Yeah but you don’t have to get so bloody annoyed! <p dir="auto"><strong><em>Stone: I’m not. Honestly. Thanks so much for the tasty eggs. You are the Queen of Scrambled Eggs. You are my Egg Queen. My buttered toast. My warm cuppa coffee. My ... <p dir="auto"><em>Stone turns towards her to hug her but she moves away from him and is up and out of bed.. She is clearly annoyed. He looks puzzled. <p dir="auto"><strong><em>Stone: Babe, what’s up? <p dir="auto"><strong><em>River (calls from the en suite, over the sound of running water. Her voice is short, tense, as if something is wrong): Nothing. I’m just having a shower. <p dir="auto"><em>Stone joins her. The audience can hear the sound of running water but just sees the unmade bed and the mess of the morning. They hear murmuring voices underneath the sound of the shower, and the occasional whoop of laughter. It should be made clear that this is a couple that have already got over the morning’s tension. Before long the couple emerge, get dressed, and make the bed together. They squabble, but in a joking way, where she berates him for not fluffing the pillows properly and folding the top sheet over the doona in a particular way. He stands to salute, mocking her as if she is being too military. She throws a pillow at him, knocking a coffee cup onto the wooden floor and then freezing, staring at him as if waiting for harsh words. <p dir="auto"><strong><em>Stone (laughing, incredulous): How do you do it? <p dir="auto"><strong><em>River (wails): I don’t KNOW! <p dir="auto"><strong><em>Stone: gesturing toward the other side of the bed where the teatowel used to wipe up the coffee sits on the floor: Go on then, grab the teatowel. Quick! <p dir="auto"><strong><em>River (throwing him the teatowel): I feel like such a klutz. I wanted you to have a nice morning. <p dir="auto"><strong><em>Stone (reaching for her again, but this time she lets allows the hug. The wet teatowel still in his hand): I did baby. But I have to go to work - sorry I’m such a grumpy bastard. <p dir="auto"><strong>River: It’s okay. Happy Valentine’s Day, by the way. <p dir="auto"><strong>Stone: Oh shit. <p dir="auto"><em>He looks at the clock, facepalms himself. <p dir="auto"><strong>River (snatching the tea towel from him): Forget again? <p dir="auto"><strong>Stone: You know I’m bad with dates. <p dir="auto"><strong><em>River: You know I couldn’t care less, right? <p dir="auto"><strong><em>Stone: You know you’re my beautiful wife? <p dir="auto"><strong><em>River: Suck. <p dir="auto"><strong><em>Stone: Yes please. <p dir="auto"><em>River slaps him with the teatowel, and he moves away from her, laughing, as she does it again. The camera focuses on the immaculately made bed as they leave the room. The banter continues as the stage lights fade, and there is the sound of a dishwasher being packed in the background, and the front door slamming on an empty house and the distant calls of ‘love you’ and ‘see you tonight’, until at last there is only the sound of birdsong. <p dir="auto"><strong>Image co created on Midjourney by me and the AI. The play is in response to the Cinnamon Cup Coffee Club community Valentine's Day Writing Challenge. <p dir="auto"><center> <h1><code>With Love, <p dir="auto"><img src="https://images.hive.blog/768x0/https://files.peakd.com/file/peakd-hive/riverflows/23t6xT1abr5kFMeEirKwZ2QqT6MK9U4SBpKCQZAjVEojgm7uSSGL9AJSuwtBsUmMAV5jv.png" alt="image.png" srcset="https://images.hive.blog/768x0/https://files.peakd.com/file/peakd-hive/riverflows/23t6xT1abr5kFMeEirKwZ2QqT6MK9U4SBpKCQZAjVEojgm7uSSGL9AJSuwtBsUmMAV5jv.png 1x, https://images.hive.blog/1536x0/https://files.peakd.com/file/peakd-hive/riverflows/23t6xT1abr5kFMeEirKwZ2QqT6MK9U4SBpKCQZAjVEojgm7uSSGL9AJSuwtBsUmMAV5jv.png 2x" /> <p dir="auto"><strong>Are you on HIVE yet? Earn for writing! 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