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A "Dark" Monologue
Alex51011 Released Feb 06, 2012

(Author's Note: This was originally written for the theatre, so anything in quotations are stage directions, enjoy!)

"There’s a girl standing center stage, holding a knife, the point on her pointer finger with the handle in her other hand. She slowly spins it around in her hand during her speech. The lights give off a dark red hue."

I’ve done this before you know. It’s not like this is my first time, I…I know what I’m doing. Not that it makes it any easier I suppose….

"She pauses and looks at the knife for a moment." 

It should be so simple, really…it should. Just a quick …slice, nothing to it at all. I build it up so much in my head though. I think out how to do it, I visualize it, but regardless I just can’t seem to do it right. And the mess, no matter how I seem to cut it, it doesn’t matter. Just a terrible red mess, everywhere. No matter how firmly I clutch at it, it just keeps going like a river. What if someone where to walk in on me? I’m a chef…I should be good at cutting things. Maybe that’s just a weird paranoia in this sort of situation…but…

"She stops, like she forgot what she was going to say and raises the knife in front of her face."

This is a good quality knife, too. Stainless steel. I bought it from one of those TV infomercials, you know, the act now and you’ll get this super amazing deal. Yet for all the amazing things this knife is supposed to be able to do it can’t do this one simple task.  Other people have done it, successfully too. Hell, tons of people have, yet I just can’t seem to do it right. "The lights go back to normal, the tone changes." Damnit, I hate cutting fucking tomatoes. 

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