Charades

LAURA
(Slowly, pensive)
How do you speak if you don't have the words: the word, the word, the single word resonates. Resonates until it divides and multiplies. Unfair. Hurt. Blank. (In mesmerized, trancelike state) Blue. black blood bleeds blue black blood but black black bugs bleed blue. (Steadily more agitated) Damned stream of consciousness, damned tongue twister of life. What do you give when there's nothing left but nonsense and empty words? Nothing there. (Beat) Time holds still. (Beat) Charades, life is such a cute, hypocritical little charade. This we know, but the truth does not help; there is nothing we can do. The blatant truth mocks our helplessness as we crumple, informed and unviable to the ground. It's almost like being in love. (Beat) It hurts like hell.

(Long pause)
What am I?