Opening Monologue from a play I wrote called Willow Sky, circa 2001.
Willow: I’m dreaming of being underwater. I can breathe. And I’m searching. But there’s no real urgency to the search. I know that I’ll get there. I’m taking my time because everything around me is so beautiful. And then this crab comes up to me. And he tells me that the glass is thickening. I have no idea what this means. But then I see you. Although you look exactly like this Ikea pirate puppet Bern has. And you hobble over to me on your peg, and your cute little eye peers at me, and you tell me this joke about a minx, and I laugh my ass off and water catches in my lungs. I’m filled with urgency. I’m choking and I can’t see the surface. It’s just blackness, and I know that I am dead. But the dream doesn’t stop. I just float there in black silence… And then my suspended body starts to ripple in the darkness… The movement waves through me. And these two great big purple hands, covered in jewellery, scoop me up. I can see again. Everything is shining silver. The hands gently lift me out of the blackness and up. And as I move the hands turn into branches, and I become part of a tree, growing up and out and into the sky—every part of me is stretching in a new way, reaching out for cotton candy clouds. I catch one. And I am flying. Soaring over purple and pink and yellow clouds. The clouds become a vast ocean. I dive in. I am the ocean. From a distance I see this boat, sailing. It’s Bern—he’s waving to me. I close my eyes and I feel my way over to him. I am liquid speed—lickity split—I’m there. He leans over the side of his boat and we chat for a little while. I’m feeling pretty good. And I’m getting kind of horny, but I’m in the water and he’s in this boat. We come up with a great idea—he just has to catch me with his silver net… But before that can happen this thick wall of glass starts growing between us. And I can see him. Clear as ever. He’s so vivid and beautiful. Like he’s glowing or something… And my heart swells with love. Rain starts to fall. Huge pellets dropping from me. And reverberations of every name I’ve ever known, and every dream I’ve ever sown, splash at me and in me and poke me with branchy veins. I grow again. But this time burning. Red. Fire. And I am strong. I am…black ash. Crispy. Crackling. And I think this is the end. And then Flash! Lightning Heat jolts through me and I see it all in a streak of white that I can never remember! Who are you?