Faisal. Abdel, get up.
Abdel. What are you doing in my bedroom, Faisal?
Faisal. They opened up the Jordan border. Can you believe it?
Abdel. No, I cannot. Now let me sleep.
Faisal. You don’t understand, Abdel. We can go to Jordan and come back with a used-car.
Abdel. Who do you think I am? How am I supposed to get a car?
Faisal. They have cheap used cars in Jordan.
Abdel. Who told you this?
Faisal. Lutfu. He’s taking his truck and his son to get a car for himself.
Abdel. He’s crazy. He has a nice truck. Why does he need another car?
Faisal. Because they’re cheap.
Abdel. How cheap?
Faisal. Three hundred and twenty five.
Abdel. Why do you need to lie to get me out of my bed?
Faisal. I do not lie to you.
Abdel. I’ve always wanted to drive down the new highway.
Faisal. I know.
Abdel. Does the Wadi El Murbah travel all the way to Amman?
Faisal. I’m not sure. I believe so.
Abdel. We can float in the Dead Sea.
Faisal. Are you awake now?
End. Awake in the Dead Sea

Acquistapace. Is that it?
Essa. This is it. This is what I’ve been telling you about.
Acquistapace. Does it work?
Essa. I just conducted a test just before you got here. I have to tell you. I’m a little shaken. I’m still getting used to having my deep emotions revealed to me in such a plain and visible manner.
Acquistapace. Are you okay?
Essa. I’ll be okay. I’m emotionally exhausted though.
Acquistapace. You look it. I’m a little concerned. Do you want to lie down?
Essa. No, I’ll be fine, but don’t be alarmed if I let loose into tears.
Acquistapace. This isn’t right, Essa. How can you say you’re going to be fine?
Essa. You have to believe me, Acquistapace. I feel emotionally released. I know I sound like I’ve lost my head, but I feel humiliated and liberated. I feel like my life is going to change because of this.
Acquistapace. I don’t know what to think of all this. You’re telling me your machine did this to you?
Essa. Yes. You might not understand though. You should try the machine yourself. Here, put this on you head.
Acquistapace. Get that thing off me!
End. Fear of Freedom

Endri. You know, I thought that cooking meals would satisfy my need to create something.
Tzipora. It doesn’t?
Endri. I’ve been trying to figure why it hasn’t. I mean, it has some components of creation: creating something from several different things, having an audience enjoy it, what else? Is that all?
Tzipora. Doesn’t it take some imagination to cook?
Endri. I think that’s what’s missing. I have no imagination in my cooking.
Tzipora. What do you mean? You’re cooking is great.
Endri. But I’m just following directions. I could almost say that I’m afraid to do something off from what the recipe instructs. If I don’t have rosemary, I have to go to the market and get some. I can’t improvise really. It’s a little unsettling. I’ve been reevaluating how I go about life. I think it goes further than following recipes with mindless precision. My life is on cruise control. Any deviation from the straight line I’ve led myself to believe in following and I reveal how truly paralyzed I am.
Tzipora. When you’re cooking and following the recipe, how certain are you that whatever you cook will come out right?
Endri. I guess it depends, but most of the time I suffer from the anxiety that it won’t be any good.
Tzipora. I wonder if it’s similar to when mothers experience anxiety about their baby before their born.
Endri. I guess it would be easier if I cooked all by myself. I wouldn’t care about the outcome of what I cooked, but when I cook for others, I find myself asking how they liked the meal.
Tzipora. It makes sense. You’re cooking for them.
Renata. Then who am I living for because it doesn’t feel like myself.
End. Cooking for Life

Torben. Read this.
Petra. What is this, a recipe?
Torben. Yeah, but look at what the recipe’s for.
Petra. I don’t get it. Filet mingon’s been crossed out and your name’s in place of it. Two eight-ounce Torben steaks. You better not be planning to cook yourself, because I don’t think I could look at your empty face as I cut into your flesh.
Torben. Elspeth mailed this to me.
Petra. Elspeth? Sounds like she’s mad at you.
Torben. Yeah, interesting how her want to devour me equates into hatred.
Petra. What did you do?
Torben. She caught me kicking her dog.
Petra. You kicked her dog?
Torben. I’ve always believed that there are two types of people. There are people who adore dogs and have no problems adoring any dog anywhere. Then there are people who simply don’t know what to do with dogs and become confused so they do things they wouldn’t normally do.
Petra. Like kick them?
Torben. Do you want to eat me too?
Petra. It does say to wrap you in bacon.
Torben. I guess it’ll help bring the flavor out of me.
End. Wrap Bacon Around Steaks and Tie
psatwentyseventwo

Antonelle. I saw a strange thing with this man at a payphone last night.
Torsten. What happened?
Antonelle. Okay, well. He’s an older man. Let’s say he’s in his seventies because of his stringy silver hair and crumpled arms. Anyway, he’s bending over the dial pad with this flashlight flashing into the numbers.
Torsten. Sounds like he came prepared.
Antonelle. Yeah, it’s as if he’s had this problem before where he could not read the dial pad at night and got tired of it, so his solution is to bring a flashlight with him so that he wouldn’t have to read in the dark.
Torsten. I wonder who he would be calling.
Antonelle. Wife or a son or daughter to ask them where he is and to pick him up? I don’t know. It’s something that he does with frequency.
Torsten. It’s a little strange. Why doesn’t he realize that the numbers on all payphones are identical? He could just memorize the layout.
Antonelle. I guess bringing the flashlight is a more tangible solution.
Torsten. Yeah, cause he’s lost it. I wonder if he brings anything else with him.
Antonelle. Like a knife or exact change?
Torsten. A knife would make sense. He may have been mugged before.
Antonelle. Seventy years without being mugged. Is that possible?
Torsten. Anything’s possible within seventy years of life.
End. Light on Numbers