The Orange Goat Theater

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Status: In Progress  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 1 (v.1) - The Painter and The Withered Rose

Submitted: March 04, 2018

Reads: 310

A A A | A A A

Submitted: March 04, 2018



As the Curtain opens we see our rose walking as if she was looking for something.
Salvatore! Salvatore! She cries in the hollows. Stricken with grief and despair she falls to the ground. Salvatore where have you gone, why have you left me? She cried to the darkness.

I am here my love.....Our rose heard off into the distance. SALVATORE! she yelled as she raised herself to her feet. Running head first further into darkness. And so our little rose walked, and walked, and walked deeper and deeper. Eventually our rose came upon a devil sitting at a bench with canvas and brush underneath a tree. She gasps and the devil laughs.

You have nothing to fear, I am only interested in those who have sinned my dear the devil said as he snickered. Can you help me? I'm lost...I need to find Salvatore The little rose cried to the devil. Hmm and what would you do once you find him? The devil asked as he placed a fresh canvas on his tripod and began to paint.

Little Rose: I was to be his rose and a thorn of which he never knew, Even if the fires of our bed were ,devil red, our hearts are ocean blue. But then he asked will you let me have the sin of painting you.

Devil: You must have been a rough one to love, Always given flowers and always adored. What need would you have, for someone who couldn't give you more, All that you had , yet you still wanted more, 

Little Rose: While it's true I was something beautiful, but he was my perfect stranger and when we met I wanted him also to be mine. He had within him a flame, a new look, a new taste so I agreed to be an inspiration so he could paint, 

Devil: So as you sang he would paint until the sun took the moon, just as he once took you.

Little Rose: Yes I admit I was his, as he was mine, There wasn't a night where I left before day light. I won't say I was right, but I could always keep him with the mask best taught to me,
For without him I feared to go to sleep.

Devil: So why do you cry? The devil asked our little rose as he continued to paint.

Little Rose: Because I need to drink from a heart that believes, Like How the Sparrow believed the scorpions tale. Because without beauty there would be no stories to tell, So I want taste one last time a love, which didn't come from a spell.

Devil: You confuse me, How you confuse me, and you have too many stories,
You beg like a puppy for love like it was a shinny new penny, but as you finally get it you go look to dimes forgetting about your pennies. Maybe I'm blind because I'm a sinner, but you didn't appear like a lover, seemed like an affection for a reflection you once caught in the water, Painting and singing is no different then a kiss given by a mirror,

Little Rose: Salvatore! Salvatore! Why do you appear no more? I gave you my body, and I would have given you my heart, but I sold it long ago so I could be adored. Do you hate me, reject me, Please just talk to me, If I could ask anything it would be please don't believe when I scream I'm not addicted to the dream,

Devil: Poor withered rose, you were greedy with your hold and now he took something worse, he took your hope, Agree it's fair, as you were never there, Silly girl can't you see a soul can't be sold, But you made it too dirty to keep, better yet to take home, you were cruel as I'm sure you know.

Little Rose: Words are just vessels to a song, Meaningless motions but always a cost,
I wanted to love you and that's the truth, How silly to search for something you wanted to be lost, My real sin is forcing myself somewhere to belong

Devil: Then there we have it! A sheep pretending to put on a wolf's clothes, my how bold, 
But I'm sorry unfortunately here we take a record of what is sold, We measure with scale and feather, and we know when a rose starts to sour,

The devil turns the painting over to show our Little rose and it's her as a devil and then as he place the painting down we see the Devil returned to his original form of Salvatore.

Devil: Thank you for putting your sin up for sale, now I can take back all wishes lost in the gale, So I let you be, keep using these stories to support your wings, I am sorry for how this had to complete, but the fates are to punish you so sing my siren sing, 

I guess a painting can cry, Brothers take your heart from the vines, pay no attention to the horned angel with dolls eyes, Just continue back to heaven, Velvet tongues, wearing gold like mud, it's no wonder why you never felt loved, You mistook freedom for lust,

Then  without regret or shame Salvatore walks back into the darkness; leaving the painting and his former lover behind

Withered Rose: He loved me, They all loved me, but I never cared for what was mine,
I was too lusted for the moonlight, Will you forgive me, Will you protect me this last time,
I promise to keep everything, Promise to learn of devotion, Will you love me if I could go with you once more in sunlight, or is it too late, have I lost my true lover, the only one I ever let me see cry,

How foolish to think keys were cut from lust, If I sing, will you paint again,
Can you look past my sins and look at me as your lover and friend, will you kiss me again,
kiss me the same as you did when you wouldn't let me dream, 

{The Arua figure of Salvatore holds his rose from behind as she regains her oldself and then becomes something more as Salvatore's light rises her up.}

Little rose & Salvatore: Will you love me, if I have you as a trusted lover, Can you protect me from the curse of all their flowers, Will you accept me as a Singer, painter, or sinner. 
I'm sorry, never again alone will you hold a heart left burning, 
Thank you for the sun you unselfishly gave me! 

{As our lover's light returns to the heavens with them, there on the ground is the canvas with a painted blue rose unburnned by the sun painted in it's background}

© Copyright 2020 Gabriel Woodworth. All rights reserved.


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