Support Group for People Who Took Metaphors Too Literally
(A circle of emotionally and physically battered individuals sit in a drab community centre, sipping weak tea. A laminated sign reads: “LITERAL INTERPRETATION SURVIVORS ANONYMOUS”)
GROUP LEADER (calmly): Welcome, everyone. Remember, this is a safe space. We share without judgment. Who’d like to go first?
DAVE (mournful, arms in a cast): I’ll go. Hi, I’m Dave.
GROUP (in unison): Hi, Dave.
DAVE: I—sighs—I burned my bridges. I just thought... I thought it was a good way to stop myself from going back to a toxic workplace. But now I live on the wrong side of the river, and the ferry won’t take me because apparently "it was an arson-related incident."
GROUP LEADER (nodding sympathetically): That sounds hard, Dave. But you’re taking steps to rebuild.
DAVE (shaking head): No, I tried. The council refused to fund a new bridge because I "very specifically" set it on fire.
GROUP LEADER: Ah. Well. Progress isn’t always a straight line.
JERRY (gruff, holding an empty basket): My turn. Hi, I’m Jerry.
GROUP (in unison): Hi, Jerry.
JERRY: I put all my eggs in one basket. Because that’s what the saying told me to avoid. And I don’t like being told what to do.
GROUP LEADER: And how did that—
JERRY: Got mugged. Whole basket gone. Scrambled eggs everywhere.
GROUP LEADER: I see. And what do you take away from this?
JERRY (gritting teeth): That guy was really fast.
MARTHA (raising hand, looking haunted): I’m Martha. I was told to “keep my ear to the ground.”
(Long silence. The group waits.)
GROUP LEADER: And...?
MARTHA (whispering, shivering): I heard things. Things I was never meant to hear.
(The group shifts uncomfortably. A man in the corner coughs. Someone sips tea too loudly.)
GROUP LEADER (quickly moving on): Thank you for sharing, Martha. Uh, Steve, you had something?
STEVE (visibly bruised): Yeah. I was told to "roll with the punches."
(Beat.)
GROUP LEADER: ...How literally?
STEVE: Seven rounds. With an actual boxer.
(The group groans in sympathy. Someone pats Steve on the back. He winces.)
SANDRA (hesitant, clutching a crumpled job rejection letter): I, um... I was told, “When one door closes, another opens.”
GROUP LEADER: And?
SANDRA (voice trembling): I got locked in a room. For three days. There was no other door.
GROUP LEADER (carefully): ...Did you try a window?
SANDRA (scoffs): What am I, a cat burglar?!
(The group murmurs supportively. A few nods. Sandra stares at the floor, traumatised.)
BARRY (grizzled, missing an eyebrow): My turn. I was told to "face my demons."
GROUP LEADER: And how did—
BARRY: I bought a Ouija board.
(Group gasps. Someone crosses themselves. Martha clutches her chair tightly.)
BARRY (dead serious): Don’t.
(A long, haunted silence.)
GROUP LEADER (nervously adjusting their chair): ...Thank you, Barry. I think we’ve all learned something today.
TOM (limping in, covered in small bruises, speaking from the doorway): Sorry I’m late. I was told to "grab life by the horns."
(He gestures at the outside. A furious goat is tied to a bicycle rack, thrashing wildly. Everyone stares.)
GROUP LEADER (rubbing temples, sighing deeply): Okay. That’s enough for today.
(Blackout. Honks in the distance.)