D I S C O N N E C T
Night time. A man is a sitting at a table, watching his wife. His wife is
stood at a window, tweaking the curtains and staring outside.
MAN
Green then?
WIFE
Bright green. Whoever chose that colour needs their eyes checked.
MAN
Sit back down?
WIFE
Hold on. The family's coming in.
(Pause)
Ooh, something's got them riled.
MAN
Couldn't you watch the T.V rather than the neighbours?
WIFE
This is the same as watching a soap. It's free too.
(Pause)
Their teenage son has just barged into the room. He's put the T.V. on.
Have you seen their T.V.? It's like a cinema screen.
MAN
Maybe it's because they want people like you to be able to watch it from
their window.
WIFE
The parents are still arguing. Can't make out what it's about. The
mother's glaring at the son now; he's just staring at that giant screen.
MAN
And I'm staring at you, wondering when you're going to sit down.
WIFE
Not now. They're really going at each other.
(Pause)
He just hit her. She's on the floor. Might be unconscious.
MAN
Should we call the police?
WIFE
I don’t know... No. It's not our concern.
(Pause)
I still can't believe they painted their living room green.
James Tillman is a graduate from the University of Chichester with a BA (Hons) degree in English and Creative Writing. Writing interests include poetry, short stories and theatre plays.