Opening Monologues Novels & Stories

I set the piece of paper down so I could have more freedom to use my hands for the big tree gestures. My voice was shaky as I started out. I could hear it so loud in my head. I tried to tune it out but it just kept sounding louder. I smiled big and hoped that Moustash didn’t notice. Finally, I got to the closing line. Moustach cleared his throat—never a good sign. He told me to try the monologue one more time, but “loosen up a bit, just do it simply like you’re talking to your friend... oh, and don’t do any of those hand gestures.”

I casually blurt in as my driver exits the car to open my door. There and then, I catch the widening of her eyes, the parting of her lips as she mulls on my words. Witnessing this fills me with a strange sense of satisfaction as she finally realizes what she walks into. Except that now, there is no escape– no, not really. Slave or wife, Ophelia… Now let our nuptial performance begin. .