Imperfect Monologue

The air reeked of alcohol, the intoxicated breaths of young people colliding together over drunken slurs to create one distinct scent. She kept her head low as she made her way through the maze made by the seemingly endless crowd. Full of regrets, she was doing all she could to get out of there, the distraction turning out to be nothing more than a few drinks with people who didn't even know when her birthday was. The song finished abruptly, followed by simultaneous cheering. She kept moving, weaving in and out of people with fierce determination until she walked right into him. She murmured a quick apology and went to continue when the familiarity of the figure in front of her hit. She hesitantly looked up, heart dropping into her stomach at the mere sight of him.

Thornton Wilder, a Wisconsin native, is the writer of the Pulitzer Prize winner play Our Town. In Our Town, Wilder tells the story of a town in Grover’s Corners, New Hampshire, and the daily lives of the inhabitants. In the play, the author uses minimal props and scenery as well as including a main character known as the Stage Manager that has the ability to break the fourth wall, allowing him to talk to the audience. This factor of talking to the audience is a major component of making the public a part of the town. Throughout the play, there are many instances in which the Stage Manager uses various cues as well as dialogues to incorporate the audience and develop an intimate relationship to create a true sense of “our town”.

Hey, how are you all doing out there ? Well, me I have just been trying to stay healthy and keep my head high so I can make it back to the only thing I have and that’s you all “my family”. I try not to think about you all too much because when I think about what's going on out there it makes me mad and I am so tired ‘’omg’’. We don't eat that much during war but when we get back to the base we eat pretty good, well actually really good. I notice that a lot of people donate food and medicine and first-aid kits too. I just got an Lee-Enfield rifle and it's a pretty nice gun, it can hold 10 bullets. I just been waiting to use it on, Germany, Austria-Hungary and the Ottoman Empire against the Allied forces of Great Britain, and there are some

Mother is angry with Joe, and told him that his illness cannot be treated Joe asked to video chat with his therapist

“Baby, there’s bills to pay and ain’t no money coming in. Your mama’s got no job come fall and there’s the mortgage and next year's taxes to think of.” I could see the frustration and sadness come over Cassie’s face. I never like to see her so lonesome but what can I do?

Disappointment disbelief and fear filled my eyes and mind as I lye on my side in a pond of tears and blood , sandwitch between the cold , soft dirt and the hot , slick metal of the car. My mind was anesthetized along with the rest of my body. Countless tones of weeping and shrieking was going on in the world that had become unknown. “Call nine-one-one ! “ said an anonymous voice.my lungs were ripped off air wouldn’t enter nor escape them.

As I wake up I hear birds chirping outside my window. I look for them but all I see is the lush green forest with a small stream going across it, I never notice the stream, my eyes follow it, it’s very windy stream it passes a lumber camp with wooden machinery clunking away with the beat of song that the workers sing they all look like ants from up here, up here I don’t leave very often these days the closing thing I come to it is my window. I don’t like my room from the red curtains to the stone walls I just don’t like it I’m trapped here hidden from the public so that my mistakes doesn’t bring shame to my people, my people they are not mine they are their own I don’t understand why we do the things that my town does I’m just a face one of

People always have more potential than it looks. That’s because people can have talents that can change the world. Some people look like ordinary people, but they may be more special than you think. Once, I was at the park. Lots of people were there, but one person caught my eye.

I don’t think there exists a world beyond my own, and I certainly do not believe in anyone other than myself. There is a cold, desolate soul lurking inside of me. It lives in the deep, dark trench of my imagination: screeching and scathing foul, sinister cries. This creature casts a grim shadow wherever I go. Every sense of joy or light is nothing more than a hollow mask that is taken off whenever I’m alone.

If you're having relationship problems, don't ask me because I'm going to give it to your straight and raw.  I've seen it time and time again where people are just disgusted with their partner and they come to me for advice but leave madder than they came. (haha)

The heavy mint cream white fog pours into the room from all sides near and far. In the foreground I can see brilliant cherry red and lime green laser lights flood the room. The four strobe lights positioned behind me are all scintillating a pearl white, in a synchronized pattern. Hundreds of people all sitting out in front of us fill the whole room. The giant vermillion and charcoal colored stage curtains hang from the ceiling all the way down to the floor on the stage right in front of us. Then the giant curtain splits in half both ends quickly accelerating left and right.

Have I been here before? I remember the blue glowing aura so well but the hills are not how I recall them. They are colder now. Everything is so tenebrous. I remember running through the archaic town with the sun beating on my back and no weight on my shoulders.

I stood at the very rock where she had last lied. Her putrid string of words interfering with my line of sight. I had only met her days back, however, I had felt I had known her for eternity. A constant pressure of darkness looming over my back.

I Stood there at the door not sure if I should come in or to turn and walk

I push the cracked oak wood tavern door open. Eyes sweep across the room falling on me. Wearing a dark hood and cloak concealing all but my piercing ice blue eyes and half of my nose. My wide chest, wiry arms, thick legs and my two swords also hidden away underneath my cloak. I’ve been growing my beard out, short cropped it isn’t much to deal with. The tavern is laid thick with the scents of; stale alcohol, fresh bread, and charred savory meat roasting on the spit in the center of the tavern. In the opposite corner of the tavern sits a table bathed in shadows with four armed individuals.