written by Joe Frank
 

Monologue:
I have to say this, and I don't want you to think I was prying or anything, but I'd never have come across them of course if I hadn't been tidying up the dirt and the filth that you left after yourself.  But I come across, well, a certain kind of literature I suppose, if you could call it that--'literature'.  It's not what I would call it.  That stuff you have back there in the cupboard.  I just happened to see it as I was hanging up your jacket.  Of course it's completely your own business what you read, but I don't think, I don't believe we've had anything like that in the house before, and I wouldn't like to think that the people who stayed here read that kind of thing on a regular basis.

Well, now, I know you're a young man and you've got other interests.  But I think that that's trash, I mean I think that's what it is, I think it is just trash and filth.  You probably think I'm very old fashioned and very 'nosey Parker'.  Well, I probably am, but what I want to say is I've seen a lot of the world.  I've lived and I've seen people come and go here over the years.  Now what tell me you, what would persuade anybody to pose for those pictures?  I mean what would persuade a woman to just--show herself like that?  I can't imagine, I just cannot imagine.

I like you, you know.  I think you're a very nice young man, and I watch you going in and out.  And I think to myself, he looks like he should have somebody to care for him, like he should have, like he mightn't be well. Then when I come across these magazines, well, I sure think that's no way for him to be treating himself, and that you probably don't have too much in your life, if you have to resort to those.  Of course, I don't know what you use them for.  But you're keeping them a secret if you're keeping them in a box here.  Like you must be ashamed of them somehow.

There's no harm in having secrets.  Sure we all have our secrets.  You write down some of yours too, don't you?  I mean I know because I come across your journal there.  Now sure I would never, I would never have looked at it, but I was dusting.  You've got nice handwriting.  That's what caught my eye, I was looking at your handwriting.  Then when I seen what you wrote.  'Tis no shame to write your secrets down.  I've had thoughts like that myself; the things that you write, we all have thoughts like that.

You know I was reading for quite a while before I realized that it was myself you were writing about.  I wanted to close the book immediately then, but I was curious to see if we'd any, I suppose, thoughts in common. I didn't know you were watching me so much.  Strange, to have somebody looking at you like that, writing it all down.  And you, writing as if you could see right through my blouse.  Well, you're a sly old boots, aren't ya, aye.  'Tis only fair I should read what you've written about the two of us, and what we do when we're together--in your mind that is.

We're sort of partners, I suppose you could say.  It's strange too you know because sometimes at night when I'm just thinking my own thoughts, and its late, and I know you're still up because I can see the light from your window cast on the garden outside.  I sometimes have thoughts like that myself.  I think about you.  I even got up once--I just came out on the landing and stood there, listening at your door.  But I turned, and went back to my own room.

Strange place isn't it?  Strange lonely place.  You can meet someone on the stairs and look 'em right in the eye and all the world passes between you. And sometimes that's the person you should be with.  But it's very difficult to say so.  Sometimes when I look at you, I think I could stretch out my arms to you, I could just put my fingers just there. I could give you something that you need I think, and I could find something in you that I need too.  You'd like that, wouldn't you?  I mean I know because I read it in your diary there.

I see you going up and down the stairs.  You're so discreet, polite, never letting on anything.  But I know how you really feel now.

You know you pass close to me, the other morning...got a whiff of your skin.

Oh look at my hands, I'm shivering now.