A monologue from the play by Lucas Hnath
ANNE MARIE (fifties – sixties)
I’m still really pissed at you.
I think you should go.
He’s gone, it’s not appropriate for you to be here.
You’ve put me in a bad spot, you’ve put me in a…
Torvald is all I have in this world, my only family.
He takes care of me.
He supports me.
Do you know why?
He doesn’t have to do it, the children are grown up,
but he does it because he’s grateful to me for sticking around after
you ran off—
for staying with him through a very difficult time—taking care of
the kids—raising the kids—and looking after him—oh he was mess!
You have no idea, you can’t even begin to imagine.
The silence.
The not-eating.
The very dark thoughts he’d think.
The shame—
And how this must’ve looked to him—the thoughts he must’ve
thought when he saw us together, conspiring behind his—
I want you to go.
Just go.
Leave.
There’s the door,
I know you know how to use it.
