VLADIMIR: Well, what now?
ESCOBAR: We wait.
VLADIMIR: For what?
ESCOBAR: For a rally. For a mistake. Or for another day.
VLADIMIR: But there is nothing. We’ve waited all night. My bat is tired. Should I not swing for that distant horizon?
ESCOBAR: From a tree branch, perhaps we all shall swing.
VLADIMIR: I hate Fenway.
ESCOBAR: It is not Yahweh.
VLADIMIR: It is not our way. But look yonder, here comes a white sphere! What should we do?
ESCOBAR: We wait.
VLADIMIR: For what?
Thursday, October 4, 2007
Excerpts from "Waiting for Becket"
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1 comment:
I think that we shall never see a sun so beautiful as a run.
- Godot ( watching the Angels wait for something )
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