VLADIMIR: Perhaps I could crawl to him.
ESTRAGON: Don't leave me!
VLADIMIR: Or I could call to him.
ESTRAGON: Yes, call to him.
VLADIMIR: Pozzo! (Silence.) Pozzo! (Silence.) No reply.
VLADIMIR and ESTRAGON: Pozzo! Pozzo!
VLADIMIR: He moved.
ESTRAGON: Are you sure his name is Pozzo?
VLADIMIR: (alarmed). Mr. Pozzo! Come back! We won't hurt you!
ESTRAGON: We might try him with other names.
VLADIMIR: I'm afraid he's dying.
ESTRAGON: It'd be amusing.
VLADIMIR: What'd be amusing?
ESTRAGON: To try him with other names, one after the other. It'd pass the time. And we'd be bound to hit on the right one sooner or later.
VLADIMIR: I tell you his name is Pozzo.
ESTRAGON: We'll soon see. (He reflects.) Abel! Abel!
ESTRAGON: Got it in one!
I just read Waiting for Godot. I actually liked it. Some absurd plays I can't stand, but this was good. And funny. And just... absurd. Like just random stuff that doesn't make any sense. Yet... somehow it seems to have a plot? Forward motion anyway. Even if they'll just be doing the exact same things tomorrow. Weird. And I like the short back and forth lines. They're talking to each other, yet sometimes they don't seem to hear each other. And they seem to have their ways of doing things, even if they have no clue wtf is going on. *snicker*
It kind of reminds me of a story idea I had, where this guy wakes up in this surreal world with all this weird random crap going on. And it somehow makes sense... but it doesn't. Like dreaming I guess. He thinks he's dreaming. But he's not. I'd want to write it in the same kind of style as Waiting for Godot, but Samuel Beckett has already done a kick arse job of it.
It's weird. Just the other day I was thinking that I prefer realism, cause some of these crazy abstract plays are just out there and hard to follow. But this was amusing. And now I like crazy plays. Or maybe I just like Samuel Beckett. *snicker* I guess insanity is an art?