by Angelique H. Caffrey
The stage is dark except for a spotlight in which a young woman stands before a tombstone.
Audrey: Hi. [lightly touches tombstone] I’m sorry. [pauses] I… I… don’t know what to say. Except that I’m… sorry. [pauses] I kept the license plate… It’s been eleven days, you know? Eleven days. Weird. We’ve never been apart eleven days. [suddenly laughs] Oh, wait. Except for that time… remember… you were hammered and made out with that girl… You were a real bastard. It’s a good thing I didn’t… [trails off, closes eyes]
Sound of crickets.
Audrey: [strangely giddy] Hear that chirping? Crick-it! Crick-it! God, I love that. It’s beautiful. It’s so alive. [suddenly opens eyes] How could you be so goddamned selfish? How could you do this? We had a life together, you son of a bitch. And you had to go and die. Well, thanks. Thanks a hell of a lot. [cries] I’m… I miss you.
Sound of jet plane overhead.
Audrey: [lifts face to sky] I’m looking up… are you looking down? [pauses] There’s not much moon tonight. [pauses] What did it feel like, Jack? Did it hurt? You were such a mess they wouldn’t let me see you. Your dad – he saw you. He fainted. Said he’d never talk about it. But I want to know. I want to know everything. [sits on grave] Everything.
Audrey: I’m tired. [lies down] Are you tired? [puts her ear to grave] I hear your heart beating. [closes eyes] Sweet dreams.