Some Days Are Happier Than Others / by Jeffrey Lo


Lights up.

Projection: Saturday.

MOM knocks at the door.

MOM: Son…

SON: What?

MOM: How are you doing?

SON: Not good…

MOM: It’s the first day of summer vacation.

SON: I know.

MOM: Do you want to do anything?

SON: No.

MOM: Really?

SON: I just want to be alone.

MOM: Why?

SON: … because that’s what I want.

MOM: … ok.

Lights shift.

Projection: Sunday.

MOM knocks at the door.

MOM: Son.

SON: Not today mom.

MOM: I’m leaving for mass in a 15 minutes.

SON: Ok.

MOM: Are you going to join me?

No answer.

MOM: Do you want to join me?

SON: No.

MOM: Why?

SON: I’m not feeling well.

MOM: Do you feel sick?

SON: No.

MOM: How do you feel?

SON: Not well. I told you. I want to be alone.

MOM: Ok…

Lights shift.

Projection: Monday.

MOM knocks at the door.

MOM: Son…

No answer.

MOM: It’s been three days…

No answer.

MOM: I’m going to open the door, ok?

No answer.

MOM: I’m coming in now…

MOM opens the door.

No one is there.

MOM looks around, worried.

After a moment SON approaches her from behind.

SON: Hey.

MOM: Oh! You startled me.

SON: Sorry.

MOM: For what?

SON: Startling you.

MOM: Oh.

SON starts to walk away.

MOM: Where are you going?

SON: I think I’m going to go to the park and see if anyone is playing basketball.

MOM: Oh… Did you want something to eat?

SON: I ate earlier. I’m not hungry right now. Probably when I get back?

MOM: Ok…

SON starts to exit.

MOM: Son.

SON: Yeah?

MOM: How are you feeling?

SON: What do you mean?

MOM: Are you doing better?


SON: Maybe? I dunno.


SON: I’m gonna go to the park now.

MOM: Ok…

SON exits.

MOM: Love you…

Lights fade.