Scene: a psychiatrist’s office with a leather couch and nearby chair. Narcissus is lying on the couch. Psychiatrist is in the chair, taking notes during the conversation.

NARCISSUS

He is so beautiful, doctor, so very beautiful. It takes my breath away. But then…then…every time I try to get close, to kiss, he leaves so abruptly. And I die until he comes back. Why is he playing these games with me?

PSYCHIATRIST

Can you think of why you would interpret his behavior as a game?

NARCISSUS

It’s so obvious. Surely you can see it, too.

PSYCHIATRIST

It’s good for your therapy is you explain things, even if you think I already know.

NARCISSUS

If you’d listen to me better, I wouldn’t have to keep repeating myself.

PSYCHIATRIST

Go on.

NARCISSUS

It’s like he’s playing hard-­‐to-­‐get.

PSYCHIATRIST

Is he hard to get?

NARCISSUS

Naturally, or I wouldn’t be there trying to understand my grief. My anxiety.

PSYCHIATRIST

Tell me about the anxiety.

NARCISSUS

It’s because I can’t have him, that beautiful creature. Did I tell you he has hair so much like mine. I even thought he was copying me. And his nose is so similar, too. How is that possible that we could be…oh dear, could we be actual twins?

PSYCHIATRIST

Where do you feel the anxiety? Which part of your body?

NARCISSUS

If he was my twin, that WOULD be strange wouldn’t it? I couldn’t fall in love with my own brother, could I?

PSYCHIATRIST

Often people feel anxiety in their solar plexus, in the abdomen area.

NARCISSUS

But if he’s not my twin, why does he look so much like me?

PSYCHIATRIST

Is the anxiety like a fluttering feeling in your stomach?

NARCISSUS

And he smiles exactly when I do. He laughs at the same time, too. How is that possible?

PSYCHIATRIST

Let’s talk about the grief you mentioned. On a scale of 1-­‐10 with ten being unbearable, how would you rate your grief?

NARCISSUS

Oh, my grief is more than anyone can bear, it’s worse than what others have to endure. It is unbearable, so I give it a 12.

PSYCHIATRIST

Ten is the top.

NARCISSUS

But mine is so much deeper, so much more profound.

PSYCHIATRIST

Alright. Twelve.

NARCISSUS

And his eyes close just when mine do. Can it be that-­‐-­‐

PSYCHIATRIST

Tell me, young man, why do you think your grief is so much greater than any one else’s?

NARCISSUS

Because when I feel it, nothing else exists. I can feel my ruddy color draining from my face, my hardihood waning, my body wasting away.

PSYCHIATRIST

Tell me more about the color draining. How did you come to notice this?

NARCISSUS

And his color drains too. It’s almost as if-­‐-­‐

PSYCHIATRIST

The color. The hardiness. Focus, Narcissus, focus. You will not solve your problem unless you can concentrate on the questions I am asking.

NARCISSUS

I see it in my hands and I feel it in my face.

PSYCHIATRIST

I’m going to take you through some guided imagery about your hands and face. Remember, do not get distracted. Focus. Focus. Focus.

Lights out. End of play.