Pat: I’m dying
George reading the paper not responding
Pat: I’m dying
George: You’re what dear?
Pat: I’m dying
George: You’re dying to what? To go shopping?
Pat (a bitter tone entering): No, I am dying
George (a little concerned and looking up): Have you been to the doctor?
Pat: There’s no cure and anyway I can’t get an appointment.
George: Did you try NHS direct?
Pat: Yes
George: what did they say?
Pat: It is environmental melancholic solastalgia
George (worried, confused): Is that bad?
Pat: yes it’s fatal. Death is the only cure.
George (nonplussed): Is it passed on through personal contact?
Pat: Then you’d be OK! No it passes through thought.
George: Through thought?
Pat: yes even though the news.
George: Surely not the Guardian!
Pat: Yes, even the Guardian does not protect you. Did you read about the threats to biodiversity? It is heartbreaking. I feel sick to death that we carry on as normal.
George: Silent, crestfallen.
Pat: Don’t worry George, you’re immune.
George: Maybe we ought to go shopping….
From a dreamtime ramble