I. THE ENCOUNTER

I certainly didn’t expect THIS to happen, but that’s always how it goes, isn’t it? In the midst of another insanely crowded Shoreditch steel-wood-and-glass-bar. This awesome girl. She kind of wades forward, smiling, through a vast ocean of faceless, chatty, after-work binge-drinkers. Venus rising from a foam shell. But draped in a scarlet-red, sexy laser-cut cocktail dress. The most staggering face i’ve ever seen. At first I think I’m dreaming, it can’t be me she’s moving towards, smiling at. But she adamantly floats precisely to the place where I’m standing.

a radical monologue in 3 acts

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CAST:

GUY: a distinctive male character whose appearance and acting change quite significantly for each of the three acts – although a certain ‘core personality’ remains consistent throughout the whole play. he’s representing a male archetype progressing through various stages of human development.

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ACT 1 – CAVE

she caught his eye straight away, there was no doubt, he really liked the way how she looked, the way how she moved and in general her colours, the whole aura around her was just lovely. it all made perfectly sense and although first signs of ageing on her face got more unforgiving the closer she came to where he casually slouched he could still see the unbroken girl spirit underneath, the power, the determination to make it as a woman in this world, something most other females around forty had lost a long time ago.

1.

swaying down the catwalk like she’s done so many times before in her young life, the photographers’ flashes this time rain down on her like lethal, venomously spitting sniper fire. zoe’s currently presenting the fifth outfit of alexander mcQueens’ superb spring / summer 2006 collection when it all of a sudden dawns on her, that she isn’t at all ready to die. her long stunning legs bend and everything turns black, as she tumbles down the platform she’s thus far walked herself to stardom on. a unified gasp runs through the audience. the soundtrack of mcQueens’ show, a bizarre techno-punk number by one of his latest lovers, abruptly cuts off as if backstage somebody’s head has just been smashed up against the mixing table’s volume control.