The Oberon Book of Modern Monologues for Women: Volume Two. Catherine Weate

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The Oberon Book of Modern Monologues for Women: Volume Two - Catherine Weate

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inside you shine and scream.

      …

      Then I blacked out.

      SENSE

       by Anja Hilling (translated by Logan Kennedy and Leonhard Unglaub)

      from Theatre Café: Plays Two

      Sense was first performed in the UK on the 27 April 2009 (as part of Theatre Café) at Southwark Playhouse, London.

      Sense follows the lives of a group of teenagers and their search for friendship, love and identity. Their experiences are separated into I. Eyes, II. Nose, III. Skin, IV. Ears and V. Tongue. NATASCHA’s story is part of V. Tongue. She hates hearing the noise of people speaking and avoids speaking herself. However, things change when she hears Albert call out to her by name at the local swimming pool.

       NATASCHA

      Natascha. Natascha.

      A miserable word.

      That’s how it always starts.

      Natascha.

      After that nothing but night. Nothing.

      That’s what it’s like my name.

      A cruel beginning.

      Three torturous syllables.

      Three As. Three yelps of pain.

      A T in the middle.

      A beat a trembling t-t-t-t-t-t.

      A pulsing in the auricle. A tensing in the brain muscles.

      What follows I know it it’s always the same always pain.

      Words words words.

      Questions little jokes words words.

      What follows. I never understand it. Never.

      A voice shoots into me.

      Bursts my eardrum.

      Shoots letters into my small head.

      Tears down bridges between my organs.

      Pressure on the eyes velvet on the tongue shortness of breath.

      My brain bursts into flame my lips twitch.

      Someone wants to talk to me wants to hear answers.

      It often starts with my name.

      I say nothing. I can’t

      It’s not that I don’t have an answer. I don’t have a voice.

      My answer is a scream.

      Nobody hears it. I don’t scream audibly.

      I want to leave. As fast as I can.

      I don’t run.

      I can’t find the bridge to my legs.

      I’m gushing in bloodstreams scream in soundproof chambers.

      Then I smile.

      When someone says my name I smile.

      When everything inside me turns to night my face smiles.

      My smile is a free spirit.

      I know it’s strange.

      Smiling doesn’t fulfil the expectations doesn’t count as an answer.

      Smiling is always too little. Or too much.

      …

      When Albert says my name there’s no smile in me. Only music.

      I know who he is.

      Student rep Albert. Hero of class contributors.

      But the sound of his voice has the power to carry me.

      With three syllables across the kiddy pool.

      I’m afraid.

      It’s a new fear.

      I’m afraid he might go without saying another word.

      SHRADDHA

      (Faith: You are what’s in your heart)

       by Natasha Langridge

      Shraddha was first performed at Soho Theatre, London, on 29 October 2009.

      The Romany Gypsies are about to be evicted from the building site of the London Olympics. Understandably they are more suspicious than usual of outsiders (gorgers). PEARL PENFOLD is 17 years old and has been promised in marriage to another Romany community. However, she and Joe, a gorger from the local council estate have fallen in love. They run away together and PEARL tells fortunes at a local festival so they can eat. Joe asks her what she tells her customers and PEARL replies…

       PEARL

      I say, ‘Give me ye palm dearie’ then

      ‘Oh dordy

      Ye’ve had a difficult time haven’t ye dear

      Life’s been hard on ye hasn’t it?

      And she give me

      her bracelet to read

      ‘But ye gonna have a long life

      And

      Oh

      What’s this?

      Oh yes

      And ye do deserve it don’t ye dear

      A beautiful house and what a garden and

      There be

      Oh

      There is someone ye’ve to BEWARE of

      DANGER

      Who is it?

      Can’t quite see

      Getting a bit hazy

      If ye could just see ye way te give me a little more I might be able

      

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