CLEO from "Six Fights on a Summer's Night" by Madelyn Sergel

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I want to tell them it goes by in a heartbeat. No, a year. It feels like you live one full year, and then your hair is gray, you can't remember the last time you got eight hours of sleep or woke up before the sunrise no matter how late you went to bed, or could run up a flight of stairs just because. I'm not even that middle aged woman. I'm that old lady behind the middle aged woman in the grocery line. People like to be nice to me because I'm old, not because I'm pretty. Should tell Lolly that. That it does come back around. Poor Lolly. Such an odd gift to be given. Like carrying an eighty pound bag of long stemmed roses around all the time. Tough to maneuver but everyone hates you if you complain about the stench. And when the roses start to die, boy, who do you think they're gonna blame?

Read more: Monologue for Woman, 50+

Guy from "The Party in the Kitchen" by Madelyn Sergel

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We're on the plane to Walter Reed and she's crying like I've never seen her cry. Not the sobbing cry. Not the screaming cry. Just these tears running down her face. Streaming. I ended up getting a couple of napkins and just stuck 'em under her chin. I think eventually she ran out of...fluid. She got a bottle of water, chugged it and it started all over again. Not a word. Just these fucking tears. A fucking flood. Like her own personal levees broke. The airport, the cab, we finally get to reception, she's still flooding. They don't bat an eye. Used to it, I guess.

Read more: Monologue for Male, 50+