Narrator: Enters. Robed as a judge and king, he unrolls a scroll as in ancient times, after removing its ring. His voice, not lofty, but regal almost sings, as in a distant background you faintly hear a trumpet before beginning to proclaim:
I read this quote in regards to the 21st century and what type life it brings.
Andy & Aria’s day… Their love a tragic thing:
“But know this, that in the last days critical times hard to deal with will be here. For men will be lovers of themselves, lovers of money, boastful, haughty, blasphemers, disobedient to parents, unthankful, disloyal, having no natural affection, not open to any agreement, slanderers, without self-control, fierce, without love of goodness, betrayers, headstrong, puffed up with pride, lovers of pleasures rather than lovers of God, having an appearance of godliness but proving false to its power; and from these turn away.” 2 Timothy 3:1-5
With these sinful traits the prevalent attitudes of the day, how would love prevail?… Would it endure or always stray?
Let’s look in on Andy, sentenced, in prison no longer delayed. Let’s hear his thoughts. Glean what he now has to say:
Act I. The Sentence
Scene I. Andy rolled out onto the stage. Pacing like a angered lion agitated in his lonely cage, his ‘guns’ gripping solid bars in a rage. Anxiety flipping his luxuriant ponytail worn artistically long at his young age.
Andy: When his gravel slammed down behind sad words “25 years” on my life, I felt no anger. Already defeated when I killed my wife.
What future have I with Aria and my ‘unborn’ son dead? I would gladly trade all my inherited money instead.
To whither away in here for so long?… Why not just end it now?
Today, to be gone!
When I see her blood on my hands, what more is a second in eternity’s span?
Why did they not give me ‘death’?… How did they know I’d prefer it? Why exist any longer? I will not defer it!
For now left, bereft!… Not just for murder, a thief for my theft.
With my Aria gone…
Narrator: At that upon his tiny cot in its dank corner he wept until exhausted. For a brief moment slept.
Wheeled off the stage in a vision or dream, we see Aria pregnant arrive on an earthly scene.
Paused at a dark window opened to midnight see, she in a silken green negligée turned her back on this starry glorious scene.
Her forehead in wrinkle betraying a frown; she slowly sits dejectedly down at a desk to compose a letter grave; not, serene. All-the-while emitting soft cries and stroking her belly, gazing thoughtfully at what she wrote, wistfully, at intervals in between.
The wording she found difficult, but she needed to write, about their love which strong existed, before they commenced to argue plus regularly fight.
This, of course, started brewing whenever ‘she’ entered. A gloom. Whether physically or mentally. A wickedness commenced to all consume. Her beauty was poignant. Her intelligence, bright. But when she slyly appeared, she caused Aria intense fright.
No. Aria’s no coward. Possessed looks of her own. A wisdom profound. Men couldn’t leave her alone.
Yet, in regards to Andy she seemed to lose precious sight. His love she possessed ardently, whole-souled, though labeled by most adults an insidious blight.
She’d not wisely acknowledge: his forcefulness left her cold. For her insides were ignited like embers blazing; not felt to ever wane old. Although, the goals in her life were buried ever do deep. His attention left her no room or time for them to nourish nor seek.
But, O what a splendor his love! Made her bloom. To the heavens to peak.
As she sealed the sad letter, she knew it was through. But for baby unborn, necessity was due.
So Aria stands; then exits the stage in a pensive, strange daze; as Andy reappears. Awakened from his somber haze, as a guard hands him the letter.
We encounter an Andy confused yet hungrily amazed… TO BE CONT’D