"I love order. It's my dream. A world where all would be silent and still and each thing in its last place, under the last dust."

Samuel Beckett, from Endgame She -- Is this how you thought it would be, this life?

He -- No, no.

S -- This blank space, this time of no communion, this silence.

H -- No. The silence. This nihility, zero, zilch, zip.

S -- Zippo, zot.

H -- Wordster. The converse of silence?

S -- No.

H -- No?

S -- Herme's silence?

H -- No, not that. Not the lovely pause which each fears to break, which, if broken, perhaps yields something equally lovely.

S -- Something equal to the lovely pause?

H -- Yes.

S -- Not that.

H -- No.

S -- There were times--

H -- Yes, times--

S -- When we, you and I, we--cohered--

H -- I'd like to believe--

S -- Yes.

H -- You and I, we did, we, like a cartwheel of stars.

S -- We did. Together. Nice of--

H -- Yes. And, others, there were others. We stuck with them, the others. We thought it meant--

S -- We thought it meant we had something, something ineffable.

H -- Yes. Even without the others, alone, you and I--

S -- Ah.

H -- It's late.

S -- It is.

H -- It seems to me that the business of regretting the past would be never-ending.

S -- Is this all there is, this? Is that a song?

H -- Yes.

S -- Yes, to the first or the second part?

H -- Both. This is all there is.

S -- And a song.

H -- Yes.

S -- Hm.

H -- We could try to move about, to see what is beyond this.

S -- It is beyond us. This.

H -- Yes.

S -- It is possible still to move. About.

H -- Is it?

S -- Yes.

H -- Then?

S -- We could. We could open the door.

H -- Yes. We--

S -- Is that what you want at this point? Is that what you imagine can break the spell?

H -- Is it a spell?

S -- Yes. A bad spell.

H -- Undeviating?

S -- Hm.

H -- Yes. Let's.

S -- Move about?

H -- We could just open. The door.

S -- Let's.

H -- Ok.

S -- There. There is the world, the variegated world.

H -- Gate? Did you say? The gate is open?

S -- Variegate.

H -- Right.

S -- It's--it's--

H -- Yes?

S -- Grand. It's grand. It's so bright.

H -- It is.

S -- It frightens me.

H -- Does it?

S -- No. No, it's--welcoming, isn't it?

H -- It is. Come here.

S -- What?

H -- You're beautiful.

S -- I--

H -- Yes. Beautiful.

S -- You, too. You're beautiful.

H -- Come closer.

S -- Yes.

H -- There. How's that?

S -- Unexpected.

H -- Yes. Excellent.

S -- Yes, except--hold me like that. Yes.

H -- The light is so--what? Tender?

S -- Or--

H -- Let's go. Let's go outside.

S -- It's a beautiful word. World--word.

H -- Nothing is changed, ultimately.

S -- I know. Noth--

H -- Still--

S -- Right.

H -- Just holding you, just holding on.

S -- Is enough?

H -- Maybe. I don't know.

S -- I don't know either.

H --

S --

H --

S --

H -- Ah.

S -- Herme's silence?

H -- I think so. I think it's only a space between two things, two possible things. One bright, one dark. That space--that space is all we know--all we can hope--

S -- One bright, one dark.

H -- I know.

S -- Hold me closer. Close the door.

H -- There.

S -- Later. We can decide later.

H -- Yes. You're smiling.

S -- Hold me closer.