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AL-AARAF // SHAIMA ALSSLALI
A one-act play
A passing dialogue..
3 PM.
A crowded Italian cafe.
Soho.
Two friends dressed in black.
Scott arrives late; he draws a chair rather awkwardly and apologizes.
King Godfrey the 9th died on the wintery night of an eclipse. Word of his demise spread faster than a colony of ants upon a fresh horse’s corpse.
Hundreds of horsemen roamed the vast kingdom of Somnenia, rushing through every crowded town square and marketplace. They yelled one phrase and one phrase only.
“The King is dead!”
The shouts repeated so often, the words stuck to people’s minds like honey.
The King is dead!
The King is dead!
