Tea with Cinnamon and Vanilla

Scene: The patio of a cabin. It's old and dusty, but well-lit. There's a small, round, wooden table at the back of the stage and two wooden chairs at the table, sitting across from each other. There's a medium-sized window right above the table, and outside, you can see that it's raining.

(RUPERT is sitting in one chair, mixing his tea in silence. RUPERT appears to be in his thirties and has black hair, but there is some grey, and he seems a bit tired and distressed. He's wearing all black, like he's just been to a funeral. After a moment, he taps his spoon gently against the cup and lays it on a napkin, and takes a small sip of the tea. Immediately making a foul face, he sets the tea back down.)


(Looking down at the teacup, and speaks in a slight English accent)

The trick, she said, was to add cinnamon and vanilla. But the difference between me and her was that I've never liked tea. She never knew it, and so every day she would make two cups, because according to her, you should never drink tea alone.

(Laughs hollowly)

Guess for now I'm breaking that rule...

(Takes another small sip of the tea, and you can still see that he doesn't like it)

I think she'd understand, though. Not many people I know really like her choice of tea. Actually... I don't like her choice of tea. But to each their own, I guess.

(Smiles faintly, takes a quick painless sip of the tea, and looks out the window)

She had all sorts of unusual habits, like sitting out in the rain. She would sit there for hours, the rain just soaking her to the skin. We'd all tell her that she was going to get sick one of these times... but she never cared...

(Leans against his hand, still facing the window)

Pneumonia. You'd never believe that a person, in these days, could die of something like that.

(He stays still for a moment, and then laughs quietly as he faces the table again and takes another quick drink of the tea, and then takes a quick glance into the cup)

Almost gone.

(He sighs quietly and drinks the rest slowly, and then puts the cup down, keeping his hands on it)

She always said that you should never drink tea alone.

(He turns his head slowly to look out the window as the rain starts to slow down)


I wrote this for my drama and screenwriting class last year. It's my favorite piece out of anything I ever wrote in that class (and we wrote a lot, plus I even did a piece that sparked the idea for Fine Line), so that's kind of saying something.

Meanwhile, I'm sorry I'm taking so long on my stories! Please, oh please forgive me!