Marie (late 20s) stands with luggage bags in her hands. Henrik (early 30s) sits on the couch, reading a book.
MARIE: Have you seen my bird?
HENRIK: What bird?
MARIE: Chippy, my bird Chippy! You know I love that bird.
HENRIK: I can’t keep track of everything you love.
MARIE: You wouldn’t need to if you paid more attention to… (beat) The poor thing! It’s so dark and so cold outside.
Henrik kisses her on the forehead.
HENRIK: Let’s search for your bird. What does it look like?
MARIE: She’s yellow and small.
HENRIK: A canary?
MARIE: To remind me of home. Norwich.
HENRIK: I wish I could make you happy here.
MARIE: I need my bird.
Henrik picks up the books and beneath them is the little yellow canary bird, squashed. Lights down.