MEVLA IS SITTING ON THE FLOOR. A TALL WOMAN PREMATURELY AGED. SHE IS FORTY FIVE. MEVLA IS MUTTERING TO HERSELF. IT IS SEMI-DARK. SHE MUTTERS ABOUT TEN FIFTEEN TIMES BEFORE WE SEE HER. THE CHIME BECOMES UNBEARABLE. THEN WE SEE HER. SHE IS IN A TINY ROOM. HASAN IS NEXT TO HER.
HE SNAPS HIS FINGERS. WE ONLY SEE HIM AFTER WATCHING MEVLA.

HASAN AND MEVLA AVOID EACH OTHER, THEY ARE DANCING. HASAN TAKES SOME FOOD AFTERWARDS HE GOES TOWARDS THE CHAIR AND SITS HIMSELF. HASAN AND MEVLA HAVE NOT SPOKEN. MEVLA BEATS HER ARMS. SHE BEATS THE WALL COMPOSING A TUNE OF SORTS. HASAN LOOKS AT HER ANNOYED BUT HE DOES NOT SAY A THING HE LOOKS WITH DISDAIN. MEVLA ON THE FLOOR IS ABOUT TO GET UP BUT THEN REALISES THAT SHE IS BEING WATCHED. SHE SHUTS HER EYES AND GOES TO THE WALL WITH A VENGEANCE. THERE IS SILENCE. THEN MEVLA BECOMES AGITATED. SHE HAS AN UNCONTROLLABLE URGE TO LAUGH. SHE QUIETENS DOWN AND BECOMES AS STILL AS STATUE. HASAN GLARES AT HER.

HASAN: Have you farted?
MEVLA: Beg pardon?
HASAN: Well have you?
MEVLA: YES.
HASAN: Have you eaten yet?
MEVLA: NO.
HASAN: You must eat something, otherwise, the neighbors will think I don’t feed you. Awful, what the neighbors can do to one. You know last night I had an unholy urge to throw stones at the neighbors windows.

HE GIGGLES.

MEVLA: Why do you want me to eat?

MEVLA TAKES HER KNITTING AND KNITS. SHE KNITS ON AND OF CONSTANTLY THROUGHOUT THE PLAY.

HASAN: You must survive the winter.
MEVLA: Any particular reason?
HASAN: You must that is all. I have a lot of winters to go before I am through with living. A good damn lot. I taste life like a beacon. I want to live. I just do.

MEVLA SEARCHES THROUGH THE CABINET. SHE PLACES MILLS AND BOON BOOKS ON THE FLOOR.

MEVLA: No drink, just a drop. Not as if I am an alcoholic. I want to forget that I am living, in this dump. I want happiness. I want to be but he blackens my name. He tells me that I’ve a drink problem when I don’t. I never get drunk, when you don’t give me whiskey.

PAUSE.