A One-Act Play

An empty stage. Two men stand at middle stage left. Both are in their mid-seventies and wear neat but slightly loose-fitting, slightly rumpled suits. The first man’s name is MAURY. The second man’s name is SAM. The audience does not need to know this.

MAURY

Did you hear? Marty, the shoe guy. He’s going out of business.

SAM

No!

MAURY

Yeah, after forty years. He’s got Alzheimer’s. The family’s totally in denial. He can’t function.

SAM

I always get my shoes from him. I’ve been wearing the same pair for twenty years.

MAURY

You’ll have to make this pair last.

SAM

I can’t even remember what size I need.

MAURY
(Looking at Sam’s feet)

A 9½, right? You wear a 9½.

SAM

I don’t know. I haven’t been to a shoe store in twenty years.

MAURY

I haven’t been in seventy years. Remember? My father was in the shoe business. I’ve never been to a shoe store.

SAM

Times change.

MAURY

They do.

The curtain falls.