(Horatio is sitting on a park bench. Craig walks by. He notices Horatio and stops to talk.)
Craig: Hello, fellow.
Horatio: (looks up) Hello, fellow.
Craig: (laughs) Don’t tell me you’re going to copy me.
Horatio: (contemplates on repeating, decides against it) No, no.
Craig: You just looked so deep in thought; I was wondering what you’re doing.
Horatio: (lightly) Oh I’m just waiting.
Craig: (expecting more) “Waiting?”
Horatio: Yes, I’m waiting.
Craig: (pause; gives up) For what?
Horatio: I’m waiting for love.
Craig: (confused) For…love?
Horatio: (doesn't understand his confusion) Why yes.
Craig: (in thought) Why would you wait for love? Can’t you live on and run into love on the way.
Horatio: My dear fellow, love won’t simply run into me, it’ll walk on by; brush past me. If I wait, I can stop it on the way.
Craig: What if it never walks by?
Horatio: It will. It always does.
Craig: How do you know?
Horatio: It alway