<br><br><br> monoblogue

monoblogue


 
Stewart from The Redeemer by Cybele May

The Confession
from Scene Five

Character: Stewart, a detective with the Allentown police, 30-50 years old.

Synopsis: As the kidnapper plays games with Stewart and Connie, Stewart is driven to the edge. When he returns from a failed attempt to retrieve the boy, Connie confronts him with her knowledge of Stewart past:

STEWART
It was an accident.
   (Pause.)
We were in the car. We were running late. She was supposed to have hemmed the pants of my suit. She hadn't only I didn't know until I put 'em on so I had to keep them up with masking tape. It looked terrible but she kept saying that we were going to be late. So we were in the car and she looked down at me and said I looked ridiculous and she was glad that she had no standards left otherwise she would be humiliated to be seen with me. That's when I started yelling—what did she want from me? She wanted me to lose control, didn't she? And then she started laughing. The faster I drove the funnier I was and the louder she laughed. I couldn't take it, I couldn't take any of it anymore. We were ugly. I wanted both of us dead. Suddenly, I wanted it all to be over and I turned straight into the oncoming traffic.
   (Pause.)
I forgot Tommy was in the back. I forgot my boy was there. He was all dressed up in his little blue suit. If it hadn't been so messed up in the accident he would have been buried in it. He was so quiet, quiet all the time. Shiny black hair, brown eyes. He had freckles from playing soccer all summer with the neighbor kid in the yard. He'd curl up on my lap and put his face against my chest and tap along with my heart. We used to eat cereal for supper when his mother wasn't home.
   (Pause.)
I told everyone it was my fault. They'd just hug me and say it would be okay and that I'd stop blaming myself someday. They didn't realize that I had actually done it, it really was my fault.


::: posted by Cybele


 
Carl - from The Hollow Mountain by Cybele May

CARL
It is. I love you, Miriam. I love you so deep down and so fierce that sometimes I scare myself. I think sometimes that maybe I could just hold you, but I’m afraid I’d hold you too tight, that I would crush you, I feel so strongly. I tremble at night thinking about you--I’ll sit downstairs in my study and I’ll hear you upstairs running the bath, then I’ll hear the water turn off, and the sound of you slipping into the water. And the gentle sound of you as you relax in the tub, then soap yourself, rinse off. The thought of you as I hear the drain and hear the water run off of you as you stand up. I can hear the towels soak up the beads of water off of your skin. I can see it in my mind as you’ve bent over, put the towel around your head, the water droplets dancing on your back, and then you’ll bind up your hair in the towel, put your robe on and pad down the hall in your bare feet to your room and shut the door behind you. I won’t hear from you until morning. ... Ida will make breakfast and bring me the coffee in the study and I’ll wait until I hear you come down before I go into the kitchen. I’m so afraid to be taken unawares by you.
I’m afraid to be alone with you. I’m afraid of this house, being here with you in this house.


::: posted by Cybele


 
Julia - from Emily Post's Guide to Vision Quests by Cybele May

The Explanation
from Scene Eight

Character: Julia, a young wife. (20-40)

Synopsis: Julia has run off with no notice to her husband. She starts by running away from him, but ends up hitchhiking and getting dumped in the middle of the desert and stumbles into a military firing range where she meets a sympathetic MP.

JULIA
I don’t even remember. It’s weird, but whatever it was, I can’t even remember. I don’t even know if we had a fight. I remember going to a party together. Came home, and I woke up in the middle of the night and just had to leave. But it wasn’t him.
   (Pause.)
I was at a party, at my sister-in-laws ... she’s goes with this Chumash fellow, keeps his old ways when it suits him. Anyway, she’s got her place all dolled up, candles all over the place. The Winter Solstice, come to think of it. Only ten or twelve of us there. It’s a small town, anyway, so that’s considered a big party. Banging pots till the sun goes down, then whooping it up. I’d had a bit to drink, so I went to use the ... facilities. She’s got the bathroom all dolled up too, filled the tub up with water and she’s colored the water pink and there are floating candles in it with rose petals. Candles, candles everywhere. Dripping into puddles of wax on the floor. I gotta pee like you wouldn’t believe, on account of the drink. But when I go to the toilet, she’s got candles floating in there too. And I just stared at it. I froze. I didn’t know what to do.
    (Frustrated)
I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know. Now we weren’t rich growing up, and I’ll tell you, but my mother was a stickler for manners. She had rules. We grew up saying, “thank you, ma’am” and “if you please, sir.” It was all Emily Post. She said that if I followed the rules, I’d never feel out of control. But there wasn’t nothing in that book to cover something like that. It shot through my head, I mean, I ran every scenario through my head – I wrote letters in my head and sent them off to the universe, asking Miss Manners for help. Trying to think what she’d say. But nothing came back. I just waited and waited. Just standing there.
    (Senses the audience’s confusion.)
There were candles floating in the toilet. What was I supposed to do? I could just sit down and do my business, but I figured they’d burn my ass ... and then clog the pipes when I flushed – I could fish them out and then do my business and then put them back in, but would that insult the host by calling attention to the problem in the first place – or I could pee in the sink.
    (Pause.)
Mason came looking for me. I could hear him outside the door, asking his sister where I was. But I didn’t say nothing. He came to the door, knocked. I didn’t answer. He kept knocking on the door. And ... I started crying. I told him to go away. And for some reason ... I don’t know, either he was pissed ‘cause I told him to go away or he was worried – or scared that I was sick or something. He yelled something and broke down the door.
    (JULIA wrinkles her nose and smiles.)
I wet myself.
    (Pause.)
I peed my pants. I just stood there with my back to my husband, in the middle of the candlelit bathroom on the shortest day of the year and I urinated on my sister-in-law’s floor.
Not knowing what to say to Mason, of course, I passed out ... into the puddle.

::: posted by Cybele


 
Stewart from The Redeemer by Cybele May

The Dream
from Scene Three

Character: Stewart, a detective with the Allentown police, 30-50 years old.

Synopsis: Stewart and Connie have an uneasy truce as they wait for a break on the case. As they spend more time together, he begins to open up more. But his attempts to reach out to Connie end up being uncomfortable confessions:

STEWART
I can’t go home. I can’t sleep there. I keep having this dream.
   (Pause.)
I'm at camp ... I think I'm a kid. The kids are out in the river on a swimming platform. They're yelling for me, waving me out. I'm running back and forth along the shore, like a dog does, you know. The rocks are slimy and I keep slipping and my mother's made me wear these little canvas sneakers because she was afraid of broken glass and snapping turtles.
   (Pause. He tries to remember.)
Suddenly I'm swimming out to them. The water is cold, and it's over my head and I feel the weeds pulling at my feet ... The current is washing me downstream and the more I kick the more my feet get tangled. I panic and I swallow water and I’m kicking and my legs are hurting ... the kids are screaming now.
   (Pause.)
I get to the platform and pull myself up and ... and ... I'm in the big lodge now. It's this huge room with tall ceilings with exposed beams. The kids are gone and it's really quiet. There are these big birds all over the place, hopping around on the furniture and the tables. Kind of like crows, glossy black with red beaks. ... One starts pecking at my hand, at first just lightly. I put my hands in my pockets, but the other birds hop over their claws ticking on the wood.
   (Pause.)
They're all pulling and tearing at my pants to get at my hands... I pick up the first bird in front of me by the legs and I start swinging him to get the other ones away. The one in my hands, he doesn't seem to want to get away, he's just calmly biting my hands. I slam him against a table and he keeps doing it, I slam him against the wall ... over and over again until he is limp in my hands and his feathers are wet and sticky. I drop him to the floor.
   (Long Silence.)
I'm not asking you to tell me what it means.
   (Pause.)
I guess I should leave. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have… no, I gotta go.


::: posted by Cybele


 
Molly from Once Buried, Twice Shy by Cybele May

One Piece
from the end of the play

Character: Molly, a wife with a troubled marriage, probably too old to start another family.

Synopsis: Molly lost her two children in a car accident and her husband has offered little comfort during the grieving process.

MOLLY
Every time I look at you I just wonder. What is going on in that head of yours. You don’t cry. It’s not like you’re throwing a party, but I wonder, do you miss them? Did you love them? Would you do anything to get them back?
   (Pause.)
Honestly, Geoff why are you still in once piece? How can you go to work every day? Why is it that you haven't killed yourself, or torn your hair out or lost fifty pounds, or gained a hundred. Why do you look like you've been sleeping at night. Why are you okay?
   (Pause.)
I want your life to be shit like mine. I want you to look outside and see the kids lined up at the bus stop and have it remind you of them or go into the bathroom and see the damn toilet and remember when Bess tried to take it apart and got her hand stuck and we had to call the paramedics to get her out, the whole time we're laughing. ... want you to be listening to a song on the radio and swear that it's Kelly singing ... or overhear some mother in the checkout line at the grocery store talking about her kid and it sounds like she's talking about your kid and for a moment you wish she was. You wish some pervert had kidnapped them and gave them a new home because you could live with anything but them being dead.
   (Pause.)
I've been sleepwalking for a year and I've finally woken up to find that my children’s' grave's violated. We did nothing more than close off their rooms and walk around the house in a daze. We haven't honored them, we haven't shown that we loved them, we haven't kept them alive in our hearts. There was a time in my life, a time that seems so distant now, when I was the mother of two girls. But I don’t know what I am now that my daughters are gone. I just wanted to know that I'm not alone. But every time I look at you I just wanna spit.
   (Pause.)
I think about it sometimes, you know. About how we had always wanted to have a family. You might have wanted children, you might have been sincere about that at one point, but really ... it doesn’t mean you loved them. ‘Cause you didn’t, did you? You didn't love them at all.


::: posted by Cybele


 
Introduction

You wanna say something? I've got something for you to say.

I'll post monologues and short plays (for use in acting classes and showcases) for all to see ...

I'm also trying to build a listing of other similar sites as a resource for actors and directors.



::: posted by Cybele









Monologues and short, short one-act plays for mass consumption and self-promotion ... from the mind of playwright Cybele May

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A Wild Sunflower A Wild Sunflower A Wild Sunflower

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Arts and Letters Daily
SciTech Daily
United States Copyright
Entropy
Chocolate
Scientific American
Playscripts
Fiction Blog
NaNoWriMo
Cybele May

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If you can't agree to these, please don't come back.
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All work on this site is protected by United States copyright laws.

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Cybele May


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A Wild Sunflower A Wild Sunflower A Wild Sunflower


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