Now August gathers her pants for a cold date with history. She had been a dull mistress and I am glad to let her go. I remember having looked forward to her coming; I recall the fervid conversations with her in my room. She had this zany habit of looking out the window and smiling whenever I am speaking to her. I had opened my box of troubles to her in the hope that she would take care of them – the abandoned essays, the turgid short stories, the bloody novel, and of course my enemy the poem. In retrospect, I should not have relied too much on her: she was a slut from birth. It is stupid to trust a slut. Go, August, go…
[Late afternoon. ALCHEMIST is seen sitting on a rock in the street just opposite the lab. Occasionally, he looks at the lab, uninterested. Pedestrians and passers-by watch him in amusement.
A VOICE [mockingly]: Your lab now scares you…
ALCHEMIST [Looking above his shoulder at the interloper]: Get behind me, fop: we have no business together.
SAME PERSON [helpfully]: Why roast in preposterous assumptions? You couldn’t have been a target. The bomb went off several metres away from your lab. [Walking away]. Your lab is safe; return to it.
ALCHEMIST [shrugging]: He doesn’t deserve another response, the fool. [Clapping both hands on his head]. More than five dybbukim gloat in Ameh’s article… [Spits out phlegm and stares right at it]. That’s one of them.
The name? – LEAVE NO STONE UNTURNED
Hideous. Keep away from this devil; he belongs to the mad and stubborn. He is full of rocks and is entirely bereft of sauvignon. Expect rocks, not a sandal on the head: Your death has been decreed. By none but you. You will be stoned like Stephen. Unfortunately, a martyr you are not ….
[ALCHEMIST walks off, shaking head in grief]