Update on a phone play...

Remember how I said I was writing a play- entirely on my phone...? I do.

Well- here's a sample of how its goin': Tentatively I'm calling it "A Priest, A Widow and A Foreigner..."

SCENE ONE

A hot light hits a square, metal table that is holding a tape recorder, a lamp and an ashtray. Smoke wafts from that ashtray- wafts into the eyes of the man sitting behind it.

This man hasn't slept in quite some time- his bloodshot, swelling eyes are proof of this. His clothes give little away about who he is- maybe just how he is... a sweater and tie perhaps.

He's quiet spoken for an Irishman. He's Campbell-

CAMPBELL: I get it. I do. I am not the most looked up to man in the area. But that's my job. My calling. (beat) I call a spade a spade and a sinner a sinner. If he doesn't like it he can change his ways or leave the church- It doesn't matter to me- I'm not here to save anyone- I'm here for those who want to be saved. (beat) I don't think she wanted to be saved. Just- You know what I think? I think that people couldn't stand the sight of us. And I do not blame them- we shouldna tried keeping what we- (beat) I canna even look at the building without feeling her hand in mine.

A different light raises now- not so hot, colder... Much colder... winter.

Dressed appropriately - a young, normal looking woman, normal looking but beautiful to some- stands staring up above us- she is in awe of something. Campbell speaks from the dark and joins her side.

CAMPBELL: She's over a thousand years old.

GIRL: She?

CAMPBELL: (smiling) Ay, all beautiful buildings are feminine.

GIRL: Wow. Wasn't that smooth?

CAMPBELL: I guess it was- you're American?

GIRL: No.

CAMPBELL: No?

GIRL: I'm Canadian.

CAMPBELL: Really?

GIRL: No.

CAMPBELL: Cute.

GIRL: Thanks.

They now stand in silence. Each waiting for the other to speak first.

CAMPBELL: What brings you to these hallowed grounds?

GIRL: Boredom.

CAMPBELL: (he laughs) I hate to break this to you but church isn't all too exciting...

GIRL: Yes. But I was cooped up in my room. Hopped a plane then a bus- found my way on to a mail truck and this is where I am.

CAMPBELL: (smiling) I am so terribly sorry.

GIRL: I'm not. Its perfect.

CAMPBELL: Ay, it is isn't it?

A deep clang of church bells.

CAMPBELL: That's my cue.

GIRL: Wait. What's your name?

CAMPBELL: Campbell.

GIRL: Is that a first name?

CAMPBELL: Most people call me Father.

GIRL: Oh. (beat) Good to meet you.

She removes her glove and shakes his hand. He notices how soft the skin of her hands are... nothing creepy though.

CAMPBELL: Ay, I hope to see you around.

He almost makes it off stage-

GIRL: Father Campbell!

CAMPBELL: Yes?

GIRL: Do you usually flirt with foreigners?

CAMPBELL: ...no... I don't think so.

They both smile at this. And now we're back at that dreadful hot light and table. Somebody new is sitting behind it. I wonder who it is-