Characters:
ELARA (20s): Staring intently at a dead phone screen. Anxious.
BEN (20s): Calm, bundled against the cold, carrying a slightly battered guitar case.
Setting:
A deserted bus stop in a small town. It is late evening. The entire town is experiencing a widespread power outage; the streetlights are dead. The only illumination comes from the faint glow of a distant high-rise building and the occasional flicker of Ben’s small, battery-operated lantern, which he has placed on the bench between them.
(The scene opens on silence, save for the faint sound of wind. ELARA is restlessly tapping her dead phone against her knee. BEN is strumming a quiet, minor-key chord on his guitar, barely audible.)
ELARA
(To herself, frustrated)
Dead. Completely dead.
BEN
They said it could be hours.
ELARA
(Looks up, surprised he spoke)
Hours? My bus is supposed to be here in ten minutes. The last one of the night.
BEN
The display screen is out, too. No way to know for sure.
ELARA
(Sighs, runs a hand through her hair)
I know. I tried calling. Service is patchy at best. At worst, well... (She gestures to her phone).
BEN
Power surge took out the cell tower repeater nearby, I heard. My phone died hours ago, too.
(He adjusts the small lantern slightly, casting their faces in an amber light. Elara leans forward, desperate for a connection.)
ELARA
I just need to let someone know I’m delayed. I’m supposed to be met when I arrive. If this bus doesn't show, I'm stuck here until dawn.
BEN
(Gentle smile)
It's a quiet little town to be stuck in.
ELARA
I’m trying to leave it. For good, this time.
BEN
Ah. The Great Escape.
(He plucks a soft, thoughtful note on his guitar.)
ELARA
Something like that. I have a job waiting. A room near the city center. A life that doesn't smell like pine needles and regret.
BEN
Regret has a smell?
ELARA
In this town, yes. It smells like damp pavement and the mill that shut down three years ago.
BEN
I’m actually waiting for the same bus. I heard they’re rerouting the 10:15 around the outage zone. Might just pull up any second now.
ELARA
You think so? The 10:15...
BEN
(Nods, stops playing)
Yeah. Maybe we can escape together. Safety in numbers.
ELARA
(She laughs for the first time, a bright sound in the dark)
Maybe. What are you escaping to?
BEN
Not escaping, really. Heading to the city for an audition tomorrow morning.
ELARA
With that? (She nods at the guitar)
BEN
BEN
(He lights up with a genuine smile)
With this. Trying to make a living making sounds instead of spreadsheets.
(A sudden, bright beam of light cuts through the darkness down the street. It widens and solidifies into the unmistakable headlights of a bus.)
ELARA
(Jumps up, scrambling for her backpack)
That’s it! It has to be!
BEN
Told you. Good luck with the job.
(He stands, packs his guitar away, slinging it over his shoulder.)
ELARA
Good luck with the audition, Ben.
BEN
(Pauses, lantern in hand)
See you on the other side of the power grid, Elara.
(He extinguishes the small lantern. The light from the approaching bus washes over the stop as the brakes hiss loudly, pulling to a stop just in front of them. The two turn and walk toward the bright door.)
A One-Act Scene
(A moment of quiet reflection. Ben picks up his guitar and begins a very simple, melodic finger-picking tune.)
continue
(The scene continues immediately as Elara and Ben board the bus.)
Scene 2
Setting:
The interior of the long-distance coach bus. It is dimly lit by emergency lighting strips, giving everything a sickly green tint. The bus is mostly empty; only a few tired-looking passengers are scattered throughout the seats. The driver is a large man, visible only in silhouette behind the money changer.
(ELARA steps up to the driver, fumbling in her wallet.)
DRIVER
Cash only, lights are down. No cards.
ELARA
(Rummaging urgently)
Right, right... I have it here somewhere... Ah, here. One way to the terminus.
DRIVER
(Gruffly accepts the cash, makes change)
Sit near the front. We're running a skeleton crew schedule.
(BEN boards behind her, already holding his ticket and cash ready.)
BEN
One to the city, please.
(He pays and moves past Elara, heading for a row near the middle, setting his guitar carefully into the overhead rack. Elara takes a seat across the aisle from him, near the front. The bus doors hiss shut. The engine rumbles into a low, steady vibration.)
BEN
(Securing his bag)
Just in time. My hands are starting to go numb.
(The bus pulls away from the curb smoothly. Outside the window, the town's total blackout gradually gives way to the odd street light that managed to stay on, then total darkness as they hit the open highway.)
ELARA
It feels strange, leaving in the dark like this. Like it’s not real. Like I’ll wake up tomorrow and still be at that bus stop.
BEN
It’s real. That's the city glow, about forty minutes out.
(He points out the front window at a distant, faint orange smudge on the horizon.)
ELARA
It’s brighter than I remember.
BEN
Progress, maybe? Or maybe just more light pollution.
(Silence stretches for a moment. Elara watches the darkness streak by the window. Ben closes his eyes, resting his head against the seat.)
ELARA
Hey, Ben? What kind of music do you play?
(Ben opens his eyes and sits up slightly, the green emergency light reflecting in them.)
BEN
Oh. You know, a little of everything. Folk, mostly. A few of my own things. Nothing that’s charting yet.
ELARA
Play something? While we wait?
BEN
(Checks the overhead rack, then the sleeping passengers)
Might be a little loud for some folks.
BEN
Okay. This one’s called "The Exit Sign." Hope you like minor keys.
(He starts to play a gentle, intricate melody. It is soft enough not to wake the few sleeping passengers but loud enough to fill their little section of the bus with warmth and story. Elara leans back in her seat, closing her eyes, a small smile on her face as the music carries them both toward the distant light.)
(FADE OUT.)
This fellow That concludes the short two-scene play, The Last Connection.
ELARA
(Leaning slightly over the aisle)
We made it. Barely.
ELARA
(Motions to the nearly empty bus)
I think we're fine. I’d like to hear what that guitar can do. It feels like a long ride in the dark otherwise.
(Ben smiles, a flicker of genuine enthusiasm overriding his shyness. He reaches up and carefully retrieves his guitar case. He pulls out the instrument, checks the tuning quickly, and settles it on his
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