GUIL: ...you don't.

ROS: Oh, good. You're here. I was afraid you wouldn't come.

GUIL: Were you?

ROS: Well, no, but it seemed only proper to say.

GUIL: Of course.

ROS: How long has it been?

GUIL: How would I know?

ROS: Why wouldn't you know?

GUIL: Must we play this game now?

ROS: Non sequitur. One-love. (understanding dawns) Oh, I understand.

GUIL: Now you understand?

ROS: Are we still playing the game?

GUIL: Have we ever stopped?

ROS: (sinks to the floor) I'm so confused.

GUIL: (sits beside him) Did we ever understand?

ROS: A remembered cal in a certain dawn. Nothing remembered before, nothing understood after. And here we are...

GUIL: Nowhere.

ROS: ...nowhere.

GUIL: Abandoned. Awoken by a voice at an uncertain dawn, abandoned in silence at sunset. Guided during the in-between toward a destination over which we had no control.

ROS: Along a path with no divergent roads.

GUIL: Or perhaps we missed those roads. Could we have missed them?

ROS: And, if we did, what else have we missed?

(they draw closer)

GUIL: How much more have we failed to notice, to address, to seize?

ROS: Is there something in particular you feel has been neglected?

GUIL: May I kiss you?

ROS: (distractedly) Non sequitur. One-love.

GUIL: I'm going to kiss you.

ROS: Statement. Two-

(GUIL kisses ROS softly, quickly)

GUIL: Love.