Closure

[Curtains open. The stage is sparsely populated, with a few bookshelves and sofas strewn arranged in a circle. A man, who we shall call Ophelius, for the lack of a good classical Greek name, stands to the stage left, staring at the skies. He is thinking.]

Oph: I challenge you, the mighty Zeus, I challenge you. You shall not be able to smite me in a thousand years, for I am Ophelius, son of Ormus and Androgyne, for it is my fate not only to rule the skies seas and the earth, but also the entire creation beyond. You shall not touch me!

[Ophelius paces around the stage. He stops for a moment, looks directly at the audience, and does the maniac demonic laugh. He is haughty and confident--perhaps a bit too much? The pacing continues till the audience is bored.]

[Enter stage right, a woman of whatever age the cast member is of. She could be his mother, or his daughter, or his lover. The audience doesn't know. The woman is Grisma. Lights go dim on Ophelius, and Grisma is in the highlight. She looks around searchingly on the stage, until she sees Ophelius. She smiles to herself, crosses her hands, winks at the audience, and walks confidently towards stage center. All her actions are rather exaggerated. Meanwhile, Ophelius is still pacing around the stage-- now circling Grisma.]

Grisma: [Directly at Ophelius] Do you know, mortal, who I am? Who dare you not acknowledge my presence! Bow before me, for I am the ultimate creator-- I created you, and I created all the gods you have, and I created your feelings and emotions. I create destiny, I create time, and I create existence. OPHELIUS, I AM THE WRITER OF THIS PLAY! BOW BEFORE ME! I shall make your entire universe disappear in a moment's notice otherwise!

Oph: [Squints to look at Grisma, and rubs his eyes] Hello! My lady, have we met before? Let me introduce myself-- I am Ophelius, son of Ormus and Androgyne, and it is my fate to not only to rule the skies seas and the earth, but also the entire creation beyond. It's an honor knowing you!

Grisma: Haha,  realize this Oph, I created you, and the prophecy. This is but a drama, and you--all of you-- my puppets.

Oph: [Walks slowly towards Grisma, and then grows confident. He gets close to her, and he carefully--perhaps a bit too longingly?-- touches her nose with his right forefinger. She remains unperturbed, and stands her ground.] You are real, you exist!!!

Grisma: Yes, I do. I created you-- you exist because I do.

Oph: Existence and non-existence-- dichotomies. If you exist, it means you don't not-exist. If you don't not-exist, then you can be made to not-exist, yes.

Grisma: My existence is on a higher plane. This is all a dream for me-- a mere figment of my imagination. Nothing that happens here is real, because it exists only inside my head.

Oph: So what is to say you are more real than I am? Is it not possible you are an imagination too-- of someone somewhere-- who doesn't bother showing up? Pray, answer.

Grisma: The difference is, I can make the existence of the plane you exist in go away in a moment's notice. You cannot do that to me.

Oph: So if I can---

[Everything goes dark. The play ends. Grisma stops existing, and the cosmos of her existence collapses into nothingness. Oph's beliefs, fate, history, and future all fall out of scope. The slate's clean. It's a sad day, but a sad day like any other sad day.]