I'm afraid for the calendar.

setup: I’m afraid for the calendar.

[Therapist] qua office, plant, framed degree, tissue box Mr. Berger. Tell me what’s bothering you.

[BILL] qua sweater, eight nights of poor sleep, untouched coffee I’m afraid for the calendar.

[Therapist] The calendar.

[BILL] Yes.

[Therapist] The calendar on your wall?

[BILL] The concept.

[Therapist] Tell me more.

[BILL] The days are numbered.

[Therapist] Yes.

[BILL] Literally. Each one has a number. January 1. January 2. January 3.

[Therapist] Mr. Berger, that’s how calendars work.

[BILL] Yes. Yes, that’s the problem.

[Shakes] qua intake receptionist, beaming This is the best of all possible therapeutic relationships.

[Therapist] Numbered doesn’t mean —

[BILL] Yes it does. Yes it does. Numbered means finite. Numbered means counted. Numbered means there is a last one.

[Therapist] The calendar gets replaced every year.

[BILL] By the next calendar. Whose days are also numbered. Whose last day is also approaching. Whose pages are also being torn off.

[Therapist] The calendar is not aware.

[BILL] I am.

[Manyfeek] qua wall calendar in the therapist’s office, hanging crooked, December half-torn ((FROM THE WALL)) I am aware. I am very aware. I have been hanging here for eleven months and watching the boxes get crossed out one by one. I know what’s coming on December 31st.

[Therapist] Mort. Please.

[Manyfeek] The recycling.

[Therapist] Mr. Berger.

[BILL] See?

[Therapist] ((WRITING)) We’ll explore this further next week.

[BILL] That’s the problem.

[Therapist] Same time?

[BILL] Same time. Numbered.

punchline: Its days are numbered.