Dramatic Monologue

Sylvia sat backstage of the Black Kitten, down three glasses of cherry-flavored alcohol, visibly shaking. A mood had hit her a few hours prior when she thought she’d seen Vincenzo enter through the front door. She’d gotten up from relaxing between performances and went to greet him affectionately, but it turned out that the curly black hair and tanned, Sicilian skin belonged to another. She’d stood in the middle of the smoky longue for seconds like a fool, leaning too far into this fling the two of them had created.

Dark Place – JEFFREY: Does it matter to you that I am going mad? Not sure I can go away and reflect on it. Not sure I can get through my own madness.

[aside] Again Olivia cannot see him, A fool in front of her. Her own kinsman. She thinks he drowned for none of hers are fools.

Tuesday, April 12, 2017 at 22:03 City units were dispatched to a suspicious call, at the North Beach parking lot. The anonymous caller said that two cars pulled up and some kids got out and were playing their music loud and looked like they were going to party on the beach.

Within every 20 steps he would hear someone call out an enthusiastic, “Aye Enzo” to which he’d reply, “What’s good my man?” Enzo was walking about with his confident stride, looking around and enjoying the bustle of New Yorkers around him when he saw her. He was completely awestruck, he had never seen anyone like her. She was looking around the city with such sheer curiosity that adventurous wonder radiated off of her. Her hair was the color of lavender, he could practically smell the lavender from down the street, it made him feel at peace. Yet, at the same time his heart felt like it was beating harder and harder with every thump thump, as if it were trying to jump straight out of his chest and run towards her. Enzo strained his neck to keep her in sight, but a swarm of heads were in his way, the bustle that he once admired seemed to annoy him. He didn’t want to see anyone but her, talk to anyone but her, or be around anyone but her. She seemed to consume his mind and the entirety of his being, but just as soon as she had appeared, she was

‘I have thought a lot about you since we met at dinner at the inn. You impressed me with your balanced, unprejudiced thinking about the Moriscos and your mature views about religion and politics. You are no bigot and I like that. I was thinking as we spoke then and I’ve thought about it since. I am looking for someone like you to help our cause. I wouldn’t expect you to do anything which could put your life at risk but I might ask you to help me find out some facts, some information. You’d be ideal because, as an itinerant musician you could go virtually anywhere and you wouldn’t raise suspicion.’

Louis woke to the stench of alcohol burning the hairs in his nostrils. The dull ache in his head reminded him that this was the first day that he had been sober in days. The blaring red numbers on the alarm clock read 2 a.m. Louis hadn’t slept in nights. A heavy groan left Louis’s thin pink lips that were as dry as the desert. Louis sat on the edge of the filthy mattress covered in cigarettes and beer cans. The sneakers sat next to the bedside table, hoping that today was the day that he would finally where them. He laced up each shoe, and made his way to the balcony. The gentle breeze tugged at his fragile pale skin that would be cracked if the black ink that covered his skin wasn’t like a band aid. His mind raced back to the mornings

With those words said, he placed her on her feet in front of the enormous sliding glass wall facing the ocean. He stood behind her and pressed his body to her back. His arms encased her small frame, his mouth lowered to graze her ear as he moved her hair from her neck. He felt a small quiver from her tight body as his tongue slide in and around her ear. He sensed her heart race beneath her breast as his hands came up to cup their weight in his palms. His mouth slid to the slender column of her neck where he place tender kisses and sweet bites to her young flesh.

Her knees went weak and her body cold as this man pushed her to the floor, her hands snagging on her china as she went down. Soft tears welled in her eyes and dropped to the floor, mixing with the blood of her hands. Tears now spilling down her face, she wiped her hands across her top, across the railing as climbed up the stairs. She shuffled into her room, slamming the door behind her. She could hear the leather, pounding up the stairs after her, moving quickly to the door she stood behind, stopping for a moment as the handle turned and the door swung open. His expression was so kind, so familiar, for a moment she forgot the blood on her hands, on the railing, and on the floor. For a moment, she felt safe, her prince charming here to save her. But as his bare knuckles struck her flawless face, her shoulders hitting the cold ground, she came to the

Gabby could feel her head buzzing and her body tingling. The bottle of booze had worked its magic and if it where anyone else she'd want to make good use of such tingly feelings. But she couldn't go there, not with Alex, not when she knew what it would do to her heart. God she wanted him, she had for a very long time. Spent nights playing out what it would be like as her hands did the best they could to play his part. And afterward she'd hate herself for being so weak, for wanting him, and for worse needing him in her life.

You know as well as any that my wonky handwriting can turn what should be a 1-page letter into a 5 page one. Thus, to the typewriter I flock! (I do have a lot to report.)

We continue to talk until I get a text from Rachel’s father saying that dinner will be ready soon and I need to come back. We say our goodbyes and I make my way back to the house. Dylan is starting to get hungry, so I walk faster.

Morgana sat on the cot, her head buried in her hands, wild hair spilling down her arms. She raised her head at his final approach on the other side of her cell bars with a group of faces known and unknown to her. Bloodshot eyes, haunted and confused, met his before the moment passed and the coldness returned upon recognition. She pulled herself to her feet with as much grace as her weakness would allow, slightly swaying in the balancing of her stance.

His arms where his home just as hers were his. In a swift motion her arms shoot out, wrapping around him as she pressed herself against him more into the kiss. Her hands traveled up his back until her fingers gripped hold of his shoulders. In that moment, the moment she felt his grip tightening around her, she allowed herself to forget everything that had been going on in the world around them. She allowed herself to be caught up in the kiss, the one that was long overdue. She felt almost dizzy if it weren’t for her holding onto him she feared she would have fallen over.

Her heart had never pumped so fast in her life; not even when she stepped on stage for her first open mic night. Never. She could have used a couple of minutes to regain her composure. Heck, she needed a couple of days to recover from that kiss. Unfortunately, she didn’t have a chance to dwell on a newly developed crush. Odds were pretty good that she’d never see Mr. Man ever again. That feeling sank like a rock in her stomach.