Characters:

KILLIAN—at least 50, mostly well put together, but only has on a bath robe

ANGEL—18 to early 20s, motivated...to build their resume

DARYA—late 20s, has seen some weird shit, but still believes in her job

ENTITY—dressed in monochrome, the spotlight never follows them, they move like a snake

crossed with a swarm of insects

Setting:

KILLIAN’s kitchen. KILLIAN stands next to a table and holds a cup of coffee, which he has waited to drink until ANGEL and DARYA arrive. On the surface are two more cups, a French press, a kettle on a single electric burner, a bowl of pill bottles and rotting fruit. There are three chairs around the table. The ENTITY is standing as far from the table as possible.

ENTITY: You’re throwing your life away, Killian.

KILLIAN: Can it.

ENTITY: If you can’t check, you’re dead.

KILLIAN: I’m not listening. I’m not listening. I am not listening.

DARYA: (quietly) I told you, his furniture should’ve been by the curb, and we should’ve driven

the hell off when you found his creepy note. That would be the professional, safe--

ANGEL: Good morning! I’m Angel. This is Darya. We’re from the second-hand store. You

called about an arm chair you’re passing on?

DARYA: Have some trouble getting it outside, sir?

KILLIAN: Yes, welcome, thank you. I have some old mirrors in the basement. They do trouble

me. As I said, I can’t look at them.

ANGEL: What’s up, friend? You know, that’s what they don’t tell you about this position. As

much as we help folks in need, we also help, maybe even more, the folks who are passing on

what they don’t need. You have these old things that have so much meaning—good or bad–and

they’ll be gone from your life in a few minutes. If you want to talk about it, I’m here for you. I

hear out people in situations like yours all the time, and it really helps them.

DARYA: Angel, you’ve been volunteering with us for like a week. Sir, where’s the armchair you

wanted us to haul off?

KILLIAN: That’s nice, Angel, but you might think differently of me if I told you, and we’ve

only just met. Would you like some coffee? I have plenty.

ANGEL: Coffee sounds great! And I’ve actually been practicing acceptance on my meditation

app, so I’m practically professionally certified not to think any differently of you at all. Also, if

this goes well, maybe we could exchange contact info to talk about the possibility of, like, a rec

letter potentially...

DARYA: Thanks, but we have more we need to pick up today. You said you had an armchair on

your call. Where is it?

KILLIAN: It’s around. The mirrors are in the basement, if you don’t mind.

ANGEL: How about, Darya, you take his mirrors down to the truck, then we’ll take the chair

together when you’re done. We don’t have to be on our way for a little while, and I would love to

have a little coffee chat with...?

KILLIAN: Killian.

ANGEL: Killian!

DARYA: We are expected at another house by 10:30.

ANGEL: (as they sit down) That’s ages. Thanks for loading up the mirrors, Dar.

KILLIAN: Sugar?

ENTITY: You know why they’re being so saccharine.

ANGEL: Yes please!

(KILLIAN pours two cups of coffee, adds nothing, and hands one to ANGEL)

ENTITY: They can see you have one crack growing and from the corner of your mouth up to

your left eyebrow

DARYA: (sighs) So. The mirrors?

ENTITY: Another over your voice box that’s bound to cut your throat right open

(KILLIAN points to the bowl)

KILLIAN: Near the bottom of the stairs is a washer and dryer, the things I need you to pick up

are against the wall next to the washer

ENTITY: I give it a week until the ones at your knees go straight through, (digs in the bowl,

picks up a bottle and starts reading the label)

KILLIAN: Please bring them around to your truck through the back door.

DARYA: Right. Angel, are you sure you don’t want to come with me?

ENTITY: And you’re clawing yourself to me to apologize as your fingers crumble...“troubled

sleep, loss of appetite, anxiety, hallucinations...” Well that can’t be it, Killian. I’m telling you I

can see the cracks, clear as day.

(The ENTITY tosses away the pill bottle)

ANGEL: They can’t be that heavy. You’ve got this. I’m taking just a few minutes to enjoy a

generously prepared cup of coffee from our friend here, who went out of his way to make us feel

welcome in his home. Are you sure you don’t want to join me?

(DARYA stalls, frustrated, then exits towards the basement stairs)

ENTITY: Do not let yourself be fooled into quitting, Killian. This is the shit keeping you

together. If this is a day with it (gestures to KILLIAN’s whole body), imagine a day without it.

Worse yet, imagine a day of not checking, not knowing.

ANGEL: Do you want to sit with me a minute?

(KILLIAN sits down, poised)

KILLIAN: I have been having some difficulty, Angel, but it’s nothing I can’t manage. I think

ridding myself of those mirrors is my first step to feeling better. You and Darya are doing me a

great service.

ANGEL: That’s so good to hear. We can talk about it though, if you want. What’s been on your

mind?

(The ENTITY begins pacing, circling, taking up the space)

KILLIAN: My mind. It’s nothing to trouble you with, really.

ANGEL: No. I can listen.

ENTITY: You’re falling apart. Check if you don’t believe me.

KILLIAN: I don’t think I’ll get better if I tell you.

ENTITY: Tell them!

ANGEL: What makes you think it won’t help to tell me?

KILLIAN: It always comes back.

ENTITY: You crumble.

ANGEL: Then, I can take it away, just for minute.

ENTITY: Mix the contents of the capsule with milk.

ANGEL: Wouldn’t that help?

ENTITY: You won’t taste how bitter it is.

KILLIAN: I don’t know.

ENTITY: Once in this morning.

ANGEL: Let’s try it then!

ENTITY: It takes eight hours for a dose to wear off, twenty-four for it to leave your body, two

weeks of acute withdrawal, but it can really last a few months, yes? And then you’re “free?” Do

you believe that?

KILLIAN: I don’t know!

ANGEL: (leans away) I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to push you.

KILLIAN: That wasn’t for you.

ENTITY: Each of your limbs cracks off like you’re snapping kindling. Or the fissures burn away

at your insides—you won’t know until your skin floats off like an empty bag.

KILLIAN: Tell me if I have cracks on my skin.

ANGEL: Lines? Scars?

KILLIAN: Huge and growing crevices digging into my body and tearing off my limbs; do I have

them?

ANGEL: (quiet, cautious) That’s not something that happens to people, Killian.

ENTITY: What if it did? Just for you?

KILLIAN: Right. You’re right. It’s impossible. Thank you.

(ANGEL gives a strained smile and sips their coffee)

ENTITY: You never thank me.

ANGEL: (looking towards entrance) Oh! There’s Darya carrying out—something wrapped in

old towels and duct tape—I’m guessing those are your mirrors. If you don’t mind, where’s the

chair?

KILLIAN: I understand if you need to go.

ANGEL: We do have to be at the next house by 10:30!

(ANGEL exits hurriedly, waving, still holding the coffee cup. Both KILLIAN and the ENTITY stay

still for a moment. There’s the sound of a truck revving up and driving away. The ENTITY drops

to their knees and holds KILLIAN’s face)

ENTITY: Look at yourself...please. You know I just want you to be safe.

(KILLIAN stands and exits, carrying off his coffee, leaving the other poured cup. When he’s out of sight, the ENTITY begins to move naturally, picks up the coffee cup, and follows KILLIAN out, walking slowly, looking down)