NWC #16- "Wheel
Chairs" DUE Nov 17th at 8am
*Challenge*- All
characters are in wheel chairs and have different levels of restricted
mobility- and all for different reasons. One of them has not been entirely
truthful.
*You won't believe what
these characters do next. At first, I was way into this. On page three, my mind
was completely blown. You'll close your eyes when you see what happens by the
end. (just don't close them too soon or you'll miss it)*
Is there a raked stage? Is
climbing involved? Why is the set filled with chairs? This and other
possibilities await
Things to Avoid- a dream
sequence where the characters walk.
Things to Avoid- a sense
of victimhood
Things to Avoid- turning
this into a monologue show because you don't want
to deal with interactions
(I really like this
challenge, too, but not today. I need to
crank out another chunk of that monologue...)
MONOLOGUE MADNESS
(DRAFT 1, part 2)
GREG
I
sent him a note.
Your
husband.
When
I heard.
Not
sure a month after the fact if it was welcome or not.
Never
heard anything in return.
Didn't
expect to.
But
I wanted him to know - something.
Something
about you maybe only I could tell him.
So
I mentioned the time you orchestrated that orphan's Thanksgiving.
Those
of us who couldn't go home to be with family, or didn't have a family to go
home to anymore, whatever the reason.
Mystery
Science Theater 3000 was still on the air at the time. Still doing their Turkey Day Marathons of
horrible movies with snarky running commentary.
Everybody
brought something for the communal meal.
We all loaded up our plates and camped out in front of an enormous TV
screen, ate, and laughed.
You
made the holiday a lot less lonely for a lot of people.
And
that was who you were, to us.
To
me.
Someone
who made the lonely times a lot less lonely.
With laughter, and companionship.
Why
couldn't you let us do that for you?
I
never really knew if he knew.
Your
husband.
You
met us both at the same time.
You
told me about him.
Did
you tell him about me?
Everything?
You
met us both at the same time.
You
chose him.
He
was the better choice.
The
better man.
A
different man.
A
man who wasn't me.
You
chose him.
Now
you're dead.
Not
saying there's causality.
If
you'd chosen me - would you still be here?
God
knows I can't even keep a plant alive, much less a human being who's in pain
and determined not to be alive anymore.
Would
I be asking myself the same questions now that your husband is probably asking
himself?
Or
would I have been a different enough man somehow to keep you here - with us?
Solve
this, fix you, replace the pain with something better.
Something
worth sticking around for, fighting for.
You
told me about your past.
You
told me about the things that haunted you.
Still.
Not
sure what I or anyone else could do about that.
But
you always reached out.
You
stopped reaching out.
Why
couldn't you stay and let us make the extra effort to reach you?
Was
leaving us the only way to make the pain stop?
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