Equinox Writing prompt: write a one act play.
Warm up:
1. Describe two characters in one or two sentences each.
2. Briefly describe the setting, in two or three sentences.
3. In four words, what are they doing?
1. Father Sun: A hot headed, fireball; omnipresent. Likes to dance the tango, always takes the lead.
Mother Earth: Broody (as in Mother hen) gracious, loving, and giving. Loves to dance the tango, surrenders to the lead of her partner… mostly.
2. Father Sun and Mother Earth are out for the evening, local smoke filled bar, the usual crowd: drunks, maniac dancers and lonely people. Live tango music plays loudly in the background.
3. Celebrating Equinox; date night.
Now spend 30 minutes writing the play.
Cosmic Date Night
Mother Earth slips on her six inch eel skin stiletto heels, musing to herself, “the sacrifices we make to beauty, not just beauty but to beguile and shake our booties!” Father Sun clicks his heals and cinches in his cummerbund of fire and molten lava, volcanic ash trails in his wake. Equinox: the great cosmic tango is about to begin.
Father Sun opens the door for his great and abundant beloved. They enter the sacred space of a smoke filled bar. A tango band is warming up in the corner. They stand on the edge of the great void, which appears to be an obsidian stage strewn with fallen stars, sparkling and twinkling at their feet. The air is thick with tobacco and copal. Grandfather Coyote is playing. Grandfather Coyote is playing every instrument, simultaneously. The music is earth shattering.
Mother Earth begins to ooze, life pours out. She is one fertile hot tamale! Her dress is deep dark moss green velvet. You can see small mammals dropping, like loose sequins to the floor. As her hips sway, new life scurries in every direction. She is stunning, all eyes are upon her. Father sun bows to her, silently asking with his simmering eyes and takes her hand. At his touch, the planet shifts on its axis. They embrace in the classic tango pose. Their eyes lock. The oceans begin to rock and heave, spilling over; steam rises up from their intimate proximity. The bar is now one vast sweat lodge. Everyone is purified. Everyone is weak in the knees. Everyone. The apricot trees, in full bloom, bow their heads, bat their eyes and blush; their blossoms fall to the ground, they are left naked and pregnant with abundance. He leads her into their first ocho. It is an endless procession of ochos; like waves breaking on the eastern and western shores of the Pacific. She is lost in the fire of his gaze. Time stands still, holding its breath. She beguiles him. He is at her mercy. They are both helpless victims of their own magnificence. Nothing will ever be the same. They breathe the same breath. The whole world is in divine agony: the aching, the longing, the magic! Grandfather Coyote plays on and on. They are reduced to cosmic rubble. And all is made right with the world.