How Not to Make Friends

A One-Act Play.
Scene: Crowded New York City subway hurtling midtown.
Characters: Me, wearing dirty bun and caftan, reading Thomas Hardy’s Far From the Madding Crowd. My seat mate, a female stranger roughly my age, clad in yoga gear and shiny blond hair.
Seatmate (looks down at my book, sniffs.) “I don’t like Carey Mulligan.”
Me (not looking up): “You’re in luck. She doesn’t star in the book.”
–fin–