A monologue from the play by Lindsay Price
The future for me is… I don’t know. Uncertain. Unclear. A lot of un words. Un-talked about, oh that’s not a word.
Wait, unspoken! Ha! This week we had heat. And I was able to cook dinner for my sister. Spaghetti.
I’m getting good at that. Afterwards we did the dishes. I wash. She dries. We… we laugh. Like we’re doing something normal, like we do it all the time.
“I can’t do the dishes, I have a date tonight…” you know. Normal. We had food. And we didn’t have to wear seven sweaters inside.
We washed and dried the dishes like normal people do. And we talked about our day. Normal. We did not talk about Mom.
Why would we? Nothing has changed. Where is she? Don’t know. Did she give you any money? No. The rent is due. (beat)
The rent is due. I have no energy to think about the future. The present takes everything I got.
Doing the dishes isn’t normal. It’s fake but we do it because that’s what a brother and a sister are supposed to do.
“You dry, why do I have to dry, I always dry…” (beat) The rent is due.