husband goes into the room, the wife goes to the exit, automatically kisses him on the cheek, completely senseless, "robotically" and goes to the door, with a great mood and lust puts on graceful boots, a fashionable jacket… Yana soars… her
Husband goes into the room, sits down in a chair, puts his head in his hands, realizing the drama of the situation as a whole.
Yana leaves the apartment.
The music ends.
ZTM.
STREET
A beggar crouches against the wall.
He looks as if at the sky, but the cap has moved so that you can't see the face. In front of the beggar is a box containing several bills.
Philip walks slowly, hands in his pockets, head down, himself hunched, broken.
He is equal to a beggar. Stops.
PHILIPP: (beggar) How are you, buddy? the
beggar gestures "OK" while continuing to sit in his pose.
Philip takes a crumpled pile of bills from his pocket and tosses them to the beggar without counting them.
PHILIPP: How about now?
The beggar bends down, opens the space for the eye on the cap with his hand, sees the amount, returns to the starting position. She holds out her hand to Philip and introduces herself.
MARK: mark!
Philip shakes his hand in return.
Philip: Philip!
MARK: shall We sit down?
Philip, without thinking twice, sits down next to him in the same position, looking somewhere in the sky.
PHILIPP: I'm in no hurry, so why not sit down. What are you doing here?
": The fate of the villain. No health, no documents, no connections… nothing. But apparently, today and even tomorrow I will live, thanks to one generous person.
Mark offers his hand, and Philip shakes the beggar's hand in return.
MARK: Thank you.
Mark frees his hand and sits with his mouth closed. Philip can hear his thoughts.
MARK's voice in the recording: interesting… when I had everything, I hardly met any good people. I was surrounded by thieves and hypocrites. And when I found myself on the porch, I began to meet beautiful people almost every day. It may not be so straight beautiful, but they open up to me in the best qualities. And the most interesting thing… I'm still alive, even though I've been fighting for survival every single day for a long time. Amusing… It makes sense to know.
Philip gets up, looks at the beggar with respect and interest, and takes a few steps back.
PHILIPP: (to the viewer, as if to himself) That's really interesting.
Philip leaves with his head down again and his hands in his pockets.
FOREST
Twilight, rain.
Philip goes on stage in a windbreaker, with a rope, looking for a place to put it, ties it to something at the top, is going to hang himself. The rope gets tangled, he can't untangle it, he throws it. Takes out a large blade, looks at it as the last thing he sees in his life.
PHILIPP: (heartfelt) Somehow everything is not right in my life… Somehow everything… senselessly. Deceive me…, deceive me…, what is the meaning of this cycle of lies? And I can't stop it, and I don't see any other way out of this cycle.
A lyrical philosophical composition begins to play (recommended by Felix ilinykh "White snow as white captivity").
Philip swings with a sharp movement, raises the blade above him with both hands, ready to plunge it into his own chest. And then the snow begins to fall.
Philip freezes, his paradigm shifts.
He is distracted by this phenomenon as a child, completely carefree looking at the snowfall, as if he sees it for the first time in his life. He automatically lowers the blade, forgetting about it and about his former intention.
The composition fades for Philip's words.
Philip: (doomed) Here is the first snow… the
Music is gaining strength again.
Philip changes his mind about committing a tragedy. Music is playing. Philip plays a scene of silent experiences of the last events of life.
Lightning flashes, thunder rolls, all this goes in parallel with the loud playing composition. The light flickers like lightning. Vachagan walks slowly across the stage in the same attire with the dogs on a leash.
Philip does not see him, he just grabs his head, falls to his knees, shows maximum emotional experiences.
The song sounds. Vachagan stops for a moment near Philip, looks at him, shakes his head, passes on, slowly leaves, taking the dogs with him.
The lights are still flickering, and the thunder and lightning are fading into the background. The composition remains on the main background. Clear weather is gradually beginning to set in on the stage.
The song ends.
Philip stands up. His hair is wet, and so are his clothes. He is exhausted, exhausted, but he smiles, sanctifying the audience with his Holy eyes.
ZTM.
STREET
It's raining. Twilight.
Plays a soft sad lyric composition (recommended by Terry "don't Talk about love" up to 1min 29 sec)
A few seconds after the start of the loss, Philip slowly enters the stage. He's all wet, exhausted, and drops of water are dripping off him on the floor.
The wife comes on the stage from the other side the same, all wet, exhausted, having experienced all the same things that her husband experienced. They approach each other slowly with the last of their strength, looking into each other's eyes with a plea and forgiveness. They lean on each other to keep from falling.
The allotted time passes for the lyrical component in the composition, the music subsides.
PHILIPP: (extremely tired of everything) Yana… do you think there's anything else we can do? Do we have any more "we"?
YANA: (extremely tired of everything) I knew you cheated on me… a woman always knows, feels, notices when she shares her husband with someone… At first I endured, hoped for something, and then… I became no different from you in the matter of loyalty, and off we go. But happiness is not everything as you can see has brought neither you nor me… And one day I met a man with two dogs… with a very strange name…
Philip is wary.
YANA: after that, I learned to hear the thoughts of my entire environment… And the masks fell! I saw the true faces and was horrified.
Philip looks at his wife with a guilty, surprised, and at
