Fall
© 2008 Erica Livingston
Erica stands behind a podium. During the short monologue she takes off her makeup, applies moisturizer, eye cream and begins applying lotion to her body.
My grandmother takes very good care of herself. Before bed and after her shower she washes her face and uses her toner and then heavily moisturizes her face. Then she applies lotion all over her body taking special care of the rough spots like her elbows and the backs of her arms and her knees. This is I guess why her skin in the softest sweetest skin I have ever had the pleasure of touching. This is also why she looks like she’s in her sixties when in fact she is 85. If I took this much care of myself every night I would look younger than my twelve-year old daughter.
Erica tosses the lotion on the ground and falls behind it to the floor.
Monday night my grandmother dropped her lotion and while trying to pick it up she fell. She fractured parts of her spine and was not able to get up. So she slept that night on the floor by her bathroom. The next morning she was unable to get up as well and spent the day on Tuesday in the same spot on the floor until 6pm when she was discovered. Awake. Aware. Alone.
It’s unfair. I fall all the time. But I am never alone. There is always someone to take my place, to tag me out and take the fall for me.
Her loneliness has consumed me. And so I fall. For her. With help.
Cara taps Erica out of the place she fell and takes her same position.
Curtain
We put together 225 of our favorite plays from our ever-growing archive of work from Too Much Light Makes the Baby Go Blind.
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