Monologues: 53 Original Pieces for Auditions

All monologues

Showing 53 of 53. All original, written for ScriptLix. Running times are estimates at 140 spoken words a minute. Time yourself out loud.

• ComedicFemaleTeen1 to 2 minutesGood for teens

  The Volcano Was a Metaphor

  Priya, 14, to the science fair judges, who are about to walk away. She wants a ribbon for a volcano that did not erupt.

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  Wait. Please. Before you write anything on that clipboard, I need you to look at the volcano one more time. Not as a volcano. As a statement.

  Yes, it was supposed to erupt. Yes, I said the word "erupt" four times in my opening remarks, and I pointed at it, and I counted down from ten, and my little brother made the sound effect. And then nothing. A small fizz. One bubble. It sort of burped.

  But think about what that means. Most volcanoes are dormant. Most of the time, a real volcano just sits there, being a mountain, making everyone nervous. So technically, mine is the most realistic project in this gym. Kevin's solar oven? Cooked a hot dog. Very nice. Very unrealistic. When has the sun ever cooked a hot dog for you?

  Also, I would like you to note the paint job. I mixed three browns. There is a tiny village at the bottom. Those people are relieved right now. I saved them.

  I am not asking for first place. I am asking for the green one. Honorable mention. The ribbon that says, this girl tried, and the baking soda betrayed her.

  195 words, about 1 min 24 sec spoken (estimate)

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• ComedicMaleTeen1 to 2 minutesGood for teens

  Parallel

  Owen, 16, to the driving examiner who has just failed him. He wants to retake the test today, right now, before his dad finds out.

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  Okay, so before you hand me that form, can we talk about the cone? Because I want to be clear that I saw the cone. I respect the cone. The cone and I had an understanding, and then the cone moved.

  No, I know cones do not move on their own. I am saying the wind was a factor.

  Look, my dad is in the waiting room. He took a half day for this. He wore his lucky shirt, which is a shirt with a fish on it that says "Reel Cool Dad," and he wore it in public, for me. If I walk out there with that piece of paper, he is going to say "That's all right, buddy," in the voice. You do not know the voice. The voice is worse than yelling.

  So here is what I am proposing. One more lap. Just the parking part. You do not even have to get back in the car. You can stand outside and watch from a safe distance, like a scientist.

  I will signal. I will check every mirror twice. I will park so straight you will want to frame it.

  Please. For the fish shirt.

  198 words, about 1 min 25 sec spoken (estimate)

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• DramaticFemaleTeen1 to 2 minutesGood for teens

  Voicemail Number Eleven

  Lena, 16, leaving one last voicemail on her late grandmother's phone line, which her family is disconnecting tomorrow. She wants to say what she never said out loud.

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  Hi, Nana. It's me. Again. This is number eleven, I think. Mom says they're turning off the line tomorrow because it costs twelve dollars a month to keep a phone ringing in an empty kitchen, and she's right, I know she's right. But I needed one more.

  I keep calling because your voice is on the greeting. "You've reached Ruth, I'm probably in the garden." You recorded that in, what, 2015? You sound so annoyed with the machine. I play it on the bus. I play it before tests. Is that weird? It's probably weird.

  I never told you about the art school thing. I got in. The summer program, the one in the city. I didn't tell you because you'd have made a big deal and I wasn't sure I was going. Then you got sick and it felt like the wrong time to be happy about something.

  I'm going. I start in June. I'm going to draw your tomato plants first, the ugly ones by the fence.

  Okay. I'm going to hang up now. That's the hard part. That's always been the hard part.

  Bye, Nana.

  188 words, about 1 min 21 sec spoken (estimate)

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• DramaticMaleTeen1 to 2 minutesGood for teens

  Cut List

  Marcus, 17, to his best friend Dev, who made the varsity team when Marcus did not. Dev has just said he will quit in solidarity. Marcus wants him to stay on the team.

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  Don't. Don't do that. Don't stand there in my driveway and tell me you're quitting for me like it's some kind of present.

  You know what I did when I saw the list? I read it four times. Top to bottom. I thought maybe they'd put me in the wrong spot, alphabetically, like maybe I was hiding under the Ts. And the whole time my stomach was doing this thing, and then I saw your name and it stopped. Because at least it was you. At least one of us.

  You think I want to sit in the stands knowing you threw it away so I wouldn't feel bad? That would be worse, Dev. That would be so much worse. Then I'm not the guy who got cut. I'm the guy who got cut and took his best friend down with him.

  We've been shooting in this driveway since we were seven. That hoop is crooked because you hung off it in fourth grade. I'm still going to be out here. I'm going to get better. And next year I'm coming for your spot.

  So you'd better be there to lose it to me.

  194 words, about 1 min 23 sec spoken (estimate)

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• ComedicAny genderTeen1 to 2 minutesGood for teens

  The Group Project

  Sam, 15, to three group members in the hallway five minutes before their history presentation. Sam wants someone, anyone, to admit they did not do their part.

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  Okay, team. Huddle up. We have five minutes, so let's do a quick check-in. Jordan, you had the slides. Great. Can I see the slides? You're showing me your phone. That is a picture of a slide. One slide. It says "The Roman Empire" and there is a clip art lion. Why is there a lion? Were there lions? I mean, yes, there were lions, but that is not the part we are presenting.

  Kayla. Research. You said, and I quote from the group chat, "I've got it covered, don't stress." And then you sent a thumbs up. And then you left the group chat. Kayla, you cannot leave the group chat. That is not a thing.

  And Marco. Marco is eating a granola bar. Marco, did you do anything? Don't nod with your mouth full. That's not an answer, that's a hostage situation.

  Here is what is going to happen. I did the whole thing. All of it. At two in the morning. But when Ms. Ferraro asks who did what, you are all going to look at me and say the word "Sam." Clearly. In unison.

  Practice it. Ready? Go.

  192 words, about 1 min 22 sec spoken (estimate)

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• SeriocomicFemaleTeen1 to 2 minutesGood for teens

  Half the Room

  Josie, 13, to her older sister Bree, who is packing for college. Josie wants Bree to leave one poster on the wall.

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  You're taking the lamp? You're taking the lamp. Okay. Fine. It was always your lamp, technically, you bought it at the yard sale with your own four dollars, I remember. I was there. I carried it home. I carried it for six blocks and you didn't say thank you, but sure, take it. Take everything.

  No, I'm not mad. This is my normal face.

  It's just that when you take everything off your side, it's going to look like nobody lived there. Like a hotel room. Mom's going to put the exercise bike in it. You know she will. She's been looking at your half of the room like it's a sale.

  So here's my deal. Leave the poster. The one with the band you don't even like anymore. I know you don't like them anymore, you said they sold out. Leave it anyway.

  Because when I can't sleep, I look at it. I've looked at that singer's weird hair every night for three years. It means you're on the other side of the room even when you're not.

  Just the poster. You can have the lamp.

  187 words, about 1 min 20 sec spoken (estimate)

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• DramaticAny genderTeen1 to 2 minutesGood for teens

  Table Nine

  Riley, 15, to a new student who has been eating lunch alone in the library for two weeks. Riley wants the new kid to come sit at their table.

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  Hey. Sorry. I know you're not supposed to talk in here, but Mrs. Okafor is on the phone, so we have about four minutes.

  I've seen you. Not in a creepy way. I come in here sometimes to return books and you're always at the table by the globe, eating crackers behind a chemistry book so nobody sees. You're really good at it. It took me three days to notice the crackers.

  I did that too. Last year. My parents split and I switched schools in October, which is the worst month, because everyone has already picked their people. I ate in a bathroom stall for a week. Do not recommend. Bad acoustics.

  Then this girl Tasha just sat down across from me at the bus stop and asked if I liked dogs, and I said yes, and she said, "Cool, table nine, tomorrow." That was it. That was the whole thing.

  So. Do you like dogs? You don't have to. It's not actually a requirement. Tasha just likes asking.

  Table nine. By the windows. We have the good chairs. Tomorrow, if you want.

  184 words, about 1 min 19 sec spoken (estimate)

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• SeriocomicMaleTeen1 to 2 minutesGood for teens

  Eulogy for Biscuit

  Theo, 13, at a backyard funeral for his hamster, speaking to his parents and little sister. He wants them to stop smirking and take it seriously.

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  Thank you all for coming. Dad, please take your hands out of your pockets. This is a funeral.

  Biscuit was two years and four months old, which in hamster years is basically ninety. So he had a full life. He ran an estimated six thousand miles on his wheel. I did the math. He never got anywhere, but he never stopped trying, and I think there's a lesson there for all of us. Especially Ava, who quit piano.

  Biscuit was not a cuddly hamster. He bit me eleven times. But he only bit when he was scared, and honestly, same.

  Some people said he was just a hamster. Grandpa said that. Grandpa can say what he wants. Grandpa did not hear Biscuit run on his wheel every night at three in the morning while I was awake worrying about middle school. That squeak was the only thing in the house that was up when I was.

  So now it's quiet. Which everyone wanted. You all complained about the squeak.

  I don't know. I'm going to miss the squeak.

  Ava, you can put the flower down now. Mom, you can say something if you want. It's okay if it's short.

  199 words, about 1 min 25 sec spoken (estimate)

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• DramaticFemaleTeen1 to 2 minutesGood for teens

  Thirty Seconds

  Dana, 17, to her debate coach after she froze during the state final and the team lost. She wants to keep her place as captain.

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  I know what you're going to say, so can I go first? Please. I've practiced this in the car, and if you go first I'll lose it.

  I froze. In the final round, with the whole team watching, I stood up and I had my notes and I had the argument, and I opened my mouth and nothing came out for thirty seconds. I counted them. Thirty seconds is very long when four hundred people are looking at you.

  I'm not going to make an excuse. I didn't sleep, but nobody slept. My mom couldn't come, but plenty of moms couldn't come. It just happened.

  But here's what I want you to know. I am the person who stayed after practice every Tuesday. I am the one who made the flash cards for the freshmen. I know every argument we've ever run, because I wrote half of them.

  You can take captain away. I'd understand. But if you do, don't do it because you think I can't handle it. Do it because someone else is better.

  And if nobody is better, let me stand up there again. I'll talk the whole time. I promise. You'll be begging me to stop.

  200 words, about 1 min 26 sec spoken (estimate)

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• ComedicAny genderTeen1 to 2 minutesGood for teens

  Bedtime Negotiations

  A teenage babysitter, to a six year old named Milo who refuses to go to bed. The babysitter wants him asleep before his parents come home in ten minutes.

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  Milo. Buddy. My guy. Come out from under the table. I can see your feet. You are not invisible, you just have a blanket on your head.

  Let's negotiate. You are a businessman. I respect that. What do you want? A story? Done. Two stories? I can do two stories. Ten stories is not a number of stories, Milo, that is a library.

  Okay, what about this. You go to bed right now, and tomorrow I will tell your mom you were the best kid I have ever babysat. Better than the Hendersons. You know the Hendersons. They have a drum set.

  No, you cannot have the drum set.

  Fine. Final offer. You walk to bed, by yourself, like a big strong person, and I will do the voice. The dragon voice. The one from Tuesday. I will do the dragon voice for one entire chapter.

  You're thinking about it. I can see you thinking about it.

  Your parents are going to be home in nine minutes. If they see you awake, I don't get asked back. And if I don't get asked back, who's going to do the dragon voice? Some stranger? Some amateur?

  That's what I thought. Go. Run. I'll get the book.

  205 words, about 1 min 28 sec spoken (estimate)

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• DramaticMaleTeen1 to 2 minutesGood for teens

  The New Address

  Eli, 16, to his father, who has just announced they are moving again for a new job. Eli wants to stay and finish senior year with his friends.

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  Can you just not unpack the boxes this time? Like, save us both the trouble. Keep everything in the garage, labeled, ready to go. That's basically what we do anyway.

  That's four schools, Dad. Four. I know you know. I just want to hear you say it out loud.

  You always say it's an adventure. It's not an adventure for me. It's a first day. You get a new office and a parking spot with your name on it. I get a cafeteria and two hundred people who already know where to sit.

  And this time I actually did it. I joined things. I'm in the robotics club. Mr. Tran says I could run the build next year. I have people who would notice if I left. Do you get that? That's never happened before.

  Aunt Carol said I could stay with her. One year. It's eleven miles from school. I already checked the bus.

  I'm not trying to hurt you. I know the job matters. I know you've been waiting for something like this. I'm not saying don't go.

  I'm saying let me stay. Just once, let me be the one who doesn't leave.

  195 words, about 1 min 24 sec spoken (estimate)

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• ComedicFemaleTeen1 to 2 minutesGood for teens

  Vote for Me, Probably

  Harper, 16, at the assembly microphone for her class president speech, just after her note cards fall off the stage. She wants the votes anyway.

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  So. Those were my note cards. They had a lot of great ideas on them. You'll have to trust me.

  Okay. I'm going to wing it, which, honestly, is a pretty good preview of how I'd run student government.

  My opponent, Derek, has promised you a vending machine with energy drinks. Derek, I love that for you. But the school board is never going to approve that, and you know it, and he knows it, and he is smiling at me right now because he knows I know it.

  I am not going to promise you a vending machine. I am going to promise you three things I can actually do. One. Fix the second floor water fountain, which has been spraying sideways since the Obama administration. Two. Get the spring dance moved out of the cafeteria, because nobody has ever felt romantic next to a tater tot fryer. Three.

  Three was on the card.

  Three was really good.

  Okay, three is this. I will always tell you the truth, even when the truth is that I dropped my cards and forgot my third point. That's three. That's the whole platform.

  Harper Wallace. Vote for me. Probably.

  197 words, about 1 min 24 sec spoken (estimate)

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• SeriocomicAny genderTeen1 to 2 minutesGood for teens

  The Uniform

  Jesse, 16, to the shift manager on the first day of their first job at a burger place. Jesse wants to keep the job even though everything has gone wrong in the first hour.

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  Before you say anything, I want to point out that the fire was very small. It was more of a flame. A confident flame. And I put it out, with the thing, the red thing on the wall, which I found on my own without training. So I think that shows initiative.

  I also know about the milkshake machine. I know. It is everywhere. I have been told it is on the ceiling. I didn't look up because I didn't want to know.

  Here's the thing. I need this job. Not in a dramatic way. My mom works doubles and I want to pay for my own phone and stop asking her for stuff. That's it. That's the whole reason. It's not a big tragic story. I just want to hand her my own money one time and see her face.

  I'm going to be bad at this for maybe one week. Then I'm going to be good at it. I learn fast. I learned the register in ten minutes. I've only made one mistake on it, and that customer didn't even notice he got a free pie.

  Please don't fire me. I already love this hat.

  197 words, about 1 min 24 sec spoken (estimate)

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• ComedicFemale20s to 30s1 to 2 minutes

  The Backup Toast

  Nicole, late 20s, a bridesmaid at a wedding reception, has been handed the microphone after the maid of honor fainted. She wants to get through a toast she never wrote.

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  Hi. Hello. I'm Nicole. I'm not the maid of honor. The maid of honor is fine, she's lying down in the coat room with a cold spoon on her neck, and she wanted me to tell you she's very sorry and also that the shrimp is not to blame. It was the heels.

  So. Toast. I was told about this toast ninety seconds ago, so please lower your expectations to the floor and then dig a little.

  I met Lauren in a college dorm laundry room. She was crying because she had turned all of her socks pink. I said, "Pink socks are fun." She said, "They were for a funeral." We have been best friends ever since.

  And Tom. Tom, I liked you immediately, which I hate, because I had a whole speech planned about not liking you.

  The thing about Lauren is that she has never once done the easy thing. She moved across the country for a job with no furniture. She learned to drive at twenty six. And she waited for a guy who would sit through a three hour documentary about bees with her and ask questions after.

  Tom, you asked questions. That's how we knew.

  To Lauren and Tom. And to the maid of honor. Drink some water, Jess.

  215 words, about 1 min 32 sec spoken (estimate)

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• ComedicMale20s to 30sAbout 1 minute

  Some Assembly Required

  Darnell, 30s, sitting on the floor of a new apartment, to his partner, who has offered to read the instructions. He wants to finish the bookshelf himself.

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  No. Put the booklet down. Put it down. I don't need the booklet. The booklet is for people who don't believe in themselves.

  I have assembled this bookshelf in my mind several times. I know its heart.

  Yes, there is one screw left over. That happens. That's a bonus screw. They throw that in to make you feel rich.

  What do you mean it's leaning? It's not leaning. It's relaxed. It's a relaxed bookshelf. We're relaxed people. It fits our energy.

  Okay, it's leaning a little.

  Here's what you need to understand. When I was a kid, my father built our entire back porch with no plans, no help and one hammer. He talked about it for twenty years. "I built that porch." Every barbecue. Every holiday. The porch was his whole personality.

  I just want one thing. One small wooden thing in this apartment that I can point to at a party and say, I made that.

  Hand me the booklet. Don't watch.

  164 words, about 1 min 10 sec spoken (estimate)

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• ComedicFemale20s to 30s1 to 2 minutes

  References Available

  Gwen, 30s, at an apartment viewing, to a strict landlord who has a firm no pets policy. Gwen has a cat hidden in her tote bag and wants the lease.

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  I just think it's a beautiful unit. The light. The crown molding. That's original? Wow. They don't make molding like that anymore, they just make, you know, regular molding.

  Pets? Oh, no. No, no. Not me. I'm not really an animal person. I'm more of a plant person. Plants don't need anything. You can leave them for a weekend and they just sort of sit there and forgive you.

  That? That was not a meow. That was my stomach. I skipped lunch. My stomach does a lot of sounds. It's a medical thing. It's actually kind of rare, there's a whole forum about it.

  I'm going to set this bag down over here. Away from us. It's a heavy bag. Lot of documents. References. Pay stubs.

  Okay. Okay, he's out. That's Pickles. He's very clean. He's very quiet when he's not in a bag. He has never scratched a single thing, except one couch, and that couch had it coming.

  Look, I lied. I know. But I'm a great tenant, and he's a great tenant, and together we are honestly the best tenants you will ever meet.

  He likes your molding. He's looking right at it.

  196 words, about 1 min 24 sec spoken (estimate)

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• ComedicMale20s to 30s1 to 2 minutesGood for teens

  The Free Trial

  Ben, 30s, at the front desk of a gym, to a cheerful sales rep. He wants to cancel the membership he signed up for in January.

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  Hi. Great. Hi, Kyle. I'm here to cancel my membership. No, I don't want to talk about my goals. My goal is to cancel my membership.

  Yes, I know about the smoothie bar. I have had the smoothie. It's very green. It tasted like a lawn that was trying its best.

  I signed up in January. January me was a different person. January me thought he was going to wake up at five and do something called a "burpee." January me did not understand that a burpee is basically falling down on purpose and then getting up angry.

  I have been here three times. Twice was to use the bathroom on my way to the bakery next door.

  No, I don't want to freeze it. I don't want to pause it. I don't want to transfer it to a loved one. I would never do that to a loved one.

  Kyle. Look at me. I have been charged forty dollars a month for ten months. That's four hundred dollars. I could have bought a treadmill. I could have bought a treadmill, and not used it, at home, in comfort.

  Where do I sign? Don't smile at me. Just give me the pen.

  202 words, about 1 min 27 sec spoken (estimate)

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• ComedicAny gender20s to 30s1 to 2 minutesGood for teens

  Mostly Haunted

  Alex, any age, a tour guide leading a nighttime ghost walk, to a skeptical tour group that has seen nothing so far. Alex wants them not to ask for refunds.

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  Okay, folks, gather in. Stand close. Closer. Ghosts like a tight group.

  This is stop number six, the Old Dunmore Hotel. Built in 1882. And this is the window where, every night, people report seeing a woman in a white dress, holding a candle, looking for her lost love.

  You will notice there is currently no woman in the window. That's because she's shy. She doesn't like big groups. And frankly, sir, you have been very loud.

  Yes, I know stop five was supposed to be cold. I know you didn't feel cold. It was a warm night. Ghosts can't control the weather, that's a different department.

  And stop four. Yes, the lady in the gift shop. She was not a ghost. I said she might be a ghost. She was just very pale and very quiet and I got excited.

  Here's the thing. I have been doing this tour for six years, and I have never once seen anything. Not a flicker. But every night, somebody in the group goes very still at one of these stops, and they don't say why.

  So keep looking.

  The refund form is online. But keep looking.

  194 words, about 1 min 23 sec spoken (estimate)

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• ComedicMale20s to 30s1 to 2 minutes

  Fourteen Index Cards

  Raj, late 20s, the best man, in a hallway outside the ceremony, to the groom. Raj has lost the ring and wants the groom to stay calm while he explains.

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  Okay. Buddy. Big day. Big, beautiful day. Before we walk in there, I need you to take three deep breaths with me. In. Out. Great. You're doing amazing.

  Nothing is wrong.

  I say that because I am about to tell you something, and it will sound like something is wrong.

  The ring is temporarily not with me. It is somewhere. It exists. Rings do not vanish, that's physics. It is in this building, almost certainly, and I have a strong theory that it is inside the ring bearer.

  No, not swallowed. He's four, not a goat. It's in his pocket. One of his pockets. He has eleven pockets. Your aunt bought him cargo pants for a wedding, which is a choice I will be discussing with her later.

  He's currently hiding under the gift table because he thinks this is a game, and I've decided not to correct him, because if he knows it's important, he'll never come out.

  So I need you to go in there, stand at the front and look romantic. I'm going to crawl under a table in a rented tux and negotiate.

  I wrote fourteen index cards for my speech tonight. Not one of them prepared me for this.

  204 words, about 1 min 27 sec spoken (estimate)

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• ComedicFemale40s plusAbout 1 minute

  Gerald the Fern

  Marjorie, 60s, at the returns counter of a garden center, to a young employee. She wants a refund on a fern she is convinced disapproves of her.

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  I'd like to return this fern. His name is Gerald. Don't write that down, that's not important. That's just what I've been calling him.

  No, he's not dead. That's the problem. He's thriving. Look at him. He's never looked better.

  He just doesn't like me.

  You think I'm joking. Every morning I come into the kitchen, and he's leaning away. Toward the window. Away from me. I turned him around. Next day, leaning away again. I turned him around again. He leaned harder. That is not botany, young man. That is a statement.

  My husband says it's the light. My husband talks to the lawnmower. I don't take his opinions on the natural world.

  I've had plants my whole life. My mother grew orchids in a bathroom with no window. I am not a beginner. And I will not live in my own house with a fern that judges what I eat for breakfast.

  I'd like store credit. I'd like something friendlier. A cactus, maybe. Something that knows it isn't perfect either.

  172 words, about 1 min 14 sec spoken (estimate)

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• ComedicMale40s plus1 to 2 minutes

  The Technical Round

  Frank, 50s, a contestant on a televised baking competition, to the head judge, who is staring at his collapsed cake. He wants to avoid elimination.

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  Before you taste it, I want to tell you what it was supposed to be. Because that matters. Intention matters.

  It was supposed to be a three tier lemon chiffon with a raspberry ribbon. Tall. Proud. A cake that walks into a room and people stand up.

  What you're looking at is the same cake. Lying down.

  It got tired. It was a long day for everyone.

  Now I know what you're thinking. You're thinking, Frank, a cake is supposed to stand. But I would say, in my defense, that the flavor is all still there. It's just closer together. It's concentrated. You get every layer in one bite, which, if you think about it, is efficient.

  I'm a plumber. I've been baking for eighteen months. My daughter signed me up for this show as a joke, and then I got in, and now I have a fan club. It's six people at my church. But they're very loyal. They made shirts.

  Taste it. Go ahead. Use the big spoon.

  And if you send me home, tell me it was the structure, not the lemon. I'm very proud of the lemon.

  191 words, about 1 min 22 sec spoken (estimate)

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• ComedicAny gender20s to 30s1 to 2 minutesGood for teens

  Gate Change

  Morgan, any age, at an airport gate, to a weary gate agent, after the flight has been delayed for the fourth time. Morgan wants a seat on the next flight out.

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  Hi. Hello. I'm not going to yell. I want to start by saying that, because I know you've been yelled at, I watched the man in the vest do it, and that was not okay, and I'm sorry on behalf of travelers everywhere.

  I just have a quick question about the word "delayed." Because the board has said "delayed" since nine this morning. It's now four. At some point does "delayed" become a lifestyle?

  I've been at this gate so long I know everyone. That's Carol. She's going to her grandson's graduation. That man has eaten six pretzels from the same bag. He's rationing. He's preparing for winter.

  Here's my situation. My sister is getting married tomorrow at noon, and I am the person holding the rings. Not metaphorically. They're in my sock. If I don't make it, she's going to have to get married with two twist ties from a bread bag.

  So I'm asking. Is there any flight, any seat, any closet with a window, going in roughly that direction? I'll sit in the back. I'll sit by the bathroom. I'll hold the coffee pot.

  Please. Carol's rooting for me.

  192 words, about 1 min 22 sec spoken (estimate)

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• ComedicFemale20s to 30s1 to 2 minutes

  One Song

  Tasha, 30, at a karaoke bar, to her friends, who are trying to stop her from singing the one song she always cries at. She wants to sing it anyway.

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  No. Give me the microphone. Give it. I'm doing it.

  I know what song it is. I picked it. I typed it in myself, with my own fingers, on the little screen, which, by the way, is sticky, and I don't want to know why.

  I know what happened last time. I know I made it to the second verse and then stood there holding the microphone and making a noise like a kettle. I know the bartender brought me napkins. I know a stranger hugged me.

  But that was last year. Last year I had just been dumped by a man who owned four identical hoodies. This year I have a promotion, a dog and a ficus I've kept alive for seven months. I'm a different woman.

  This year I'm going to sing it all the way through. Both verses. The key change. The key change is what gets me. Something about the key change.

  If I cry, I cry. People cry at karaoke. It's practically what it's for.

  Hold my drink. Somebody hold the napkins. Just in case.

  180 words, about 1 min 17 sec spoken (estimate)

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• ComedicFemale40s plus1 to 2 minutes

  Section Four, Paragraph Two

  Linda, 50s, president of the neighborhood homeowners association, at her neighbor's front door. She wants a pink plastic flamingo removed from his lawn.

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  Good morning, Dale. I won't keep you. I'm just here, as a neighbor, and also as the elected president of the Willow Creek Homeowners Association, to discuss the flamingo.

  That one. The pink one. Next to your mailbox.

  Section four, paragraph two, of our community guidelines clearly states that lawn ornaments shall be "tasteful and in keeping with the character of the neighborhood." I printed it out. I highlighted it. I used a yellow highlighter, Dale, because I want you to know this isn't personal.

  I'm not saying the flamingo is ugly. I'm saying it's loud. It's very pink. It's looking at my kitchen window. Every morning, I'm having my coffee, and there it is. One leg up. Like it knows something.

  Now. There was a second flamingo last week. That one's gone. I appreciate that. I'm choosing to believe you took it down and not that someone stole it, because I was told that someone was seen at night carrying a flamingo across the street, and I'd like to put that rumor to rest.

  Was that you, Dale? Did you take my flamingo? Because I want it back.

  189 words, about 1 min 21 sec spoken (estimate)

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• ComedicMale20s to 30s1 to 2 minutes

  Floss Honesty

  Jordan, 20s, in the dentist's chair, to his dentist, who has just asked whether he flosses. He wants her to believe that he does.

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  Do I floss? Yes. Absolutely. Every day. Almost every day. Most days that end in a y.

  Why? Is there blood? A little blood is normal. That's just the gums saying hello.

  Okay, here's the truth, and I want to be honest with you, because you have a sharp metal tool very close to my face. I flossed last night. Before that, I flossed six months ago, the night before my last appointment. I'm like a student who only studies the night before the test. And every time, I tell myself, this is the year. I buy the mint kind. I buy the little picks. I put them by the sink, where I can see them. And they just watch me brush. Every night. Disappointed.

  I don't know what it is. It's thirty seconds. I can run a mile. I filed my own taxes. But that string defeats me.

  So no. I don't floss. I'm a liar and my gums know it.

  Can you give me the lecture anyway? The real one. With the pictures. I think I need to be scared.

  182 words, about 1 min 18 sec spoken (estimate)

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• DramaticFemale20s to 30s1 to 2 minutes

  Last Booth

  Carmen, 30s, in a diner booth, to her younger sister Ana, who has not spoken to their mother in four years. Carmen wants Ana to visit their mother in the hospital before Friday.

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  You ordered the pancakes. You always order the pancakes and then you eat half and push the plate at me. You did it when you were nine. You're still doing it.

  I didn't ask you here to fight. I know that's what you think. I know you sat in the car for ten minutes before you came in. I watched you. You fixed your hair twice.

  Mom's at St. Vincent's. Fourth floor. They're moving her on Friday to a place with a garden and nurses who talk very softly, and you know what that means. I don't have to say it.

  I'm not asking you to forgive her. I'm not asking you to forget what she said at Dad's funeral. I was there. I heard it. I've been mad at her for four years too, I just did it from closer up.

  But she asks for you. Every day. Not by name anymore. She says "the little one." She says, "Is the little one coming?" And I have run out of ways to say no.

  You don't have to talk. You can sit in the chair by the window and eat pudding from the cart. You can just be there for ten minutes.

  Then you can go back to being angry. I'll even drive you.

  215 words, about 1 min 32 sec spoken (estimate)

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• DramaticMale20s to 30s1 to 2 minutes

  The Rookie

  Captain Reyes, 40, in an empty firehouse kitchen, to a young firefighter who froze on a call and has just handed in his resignation letter. Reyes wants him to tear it up.

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  Sit down. No, sit. I'm not reading this. I'm putting it in the drawer with the takeout menus, and in a week, you're going to ask me for it back, and I'm going to hand it to you, and you're going to throw it away.

  You froze. On the stairs. I saw it. Everyone saw it. And you think that's the end of something.

  Let me tell you about my first year. A kitchen fire, nothing big. I walked in, and I saw a highchair. Empty. Kid was fine, already outside with the neighbor. But I saw that highchair and I couldn't move my feet. Ten seconds. Fifteen. My lieutenant had to put his hand on my back and push.

  I thought I was done. I sat in my truck that night and wrote a letter just like this one.

  My lieutenant came out to the parking lot and said, "The ones who freeze are the ones who understand what's in there. I'd rather have one of you than ten guys who think it's a game."

  I didn't believe him. Took me two years to believe him.

  You understand what's in there. That's not a weakness. That's the job.

  Shift starts at seven. Be early. I'll make the coffee.

  209 words, about 1 min 30 sec spoken (estimate)

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• DramaticFemale40s plus1 to 2 minutes

  The Recipe

  Rosa, 60s, in her kitchen, to her adult daughter, who has come to help her move into a smaller apartment. Rosa has started to forget things and wants her daughter to learn the family recipe today.

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  Put the boxes down. The boxes can wait. Come here. Wash your hands.

  You're going to learn the tamales today. Don't make that face. You always say next Christmas. Next Christmas. Every year, next Christmas.

  Look at me. I put the salt in the sugar jar yesterday. Last week I called your brother by your father's name. I know what's happening. The doctor talks to me like I don't know, but I know.

  So we do it now. While it's still in here.

  My mother didn't write anything down. She said if you need paper, you weren't paying attention. So you watch my hands. Not my face. My hands.

  The masa has to feel like this. Touch it. Like your ear lobe. Not like your cheek. Too soft and they fall apart. Too hard and your uncle complains for an hour.

  And you fold it like this. Away from you. Always away. My mother said you fold toward the door so the good luck goes out to the neighbors. I don't know if that's true. I never wanted to find out.

  Now you do one. No, I won't help. Do it.

  There. You see? Your hands knew.

  197 words, about 1 min 24 sec spoken (estimate)

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• DramaticFemale20s to 30s1 to 2 minutes

  Night Shift

  Kim, 30s, a hospice nurse, in a hallway at three in the morning, to the son of a dying patient, who has been yelling at the staff. She wants him to go back into the room.

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  Mr. Halvorsen. I need you to stop. Just for a second. You've been shouting at the vending machine, and the vending machine didn't do anything.

  I know. I know you're not actually angry at the machine.

  Here's what I see, and you can tell me I'm wrong. You've been in that chair by her bed for two days. You haven't eaten anything that didn't come out of a crinkly bag. And every time she wakes up, you leave the room. You say you need coffee. You've had nine coffees.

  I've done this job for eleven years. I've sat with a lot of families. And the thing nobody tells you is that there isn't a right thing to say. People wait for the perfect sentence. They practice it in the hallway. And then the time passes, and they never say it.

  She doesn't need a perfect sentence. She needs you in the chair when she opens her eyes.

  You can tell her about the weather. You can read her the box scores. You can tell her the coffee here is terrible. It is. That's true.

  Go back in. I'll bring you some toast. Real toast.

  194 words, about 1 min 23 sec spoken (estimate)

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• DramaticAny gender20s to 30s1 to 2 minutes

  The Quiet

  Sam, late 20s, home from military service, on the back steps at a welcome home party, to an old friend who keeps asking what it was like over there. Sam wants the friend to stop asking and just sit.

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  You want to know what it was like. Everyone wants to know what it was like. Your uncle asked me between hot dogs. A guy at the gas station asked me because of the haircut.

  I'm not going to tell you. Not because it's a secret. Because I don't have the words yet, and if I try to find them out here, with the music and the balloons, I'll find the wrong ones, and then those will be the ones I keep.

  You know what I miss? This is going to sound crazy. I miss the quiet. There was this hour before dawn where nobody talked. Twelve people, and nobody said a word. Not because it was sad. Because we didn't have to. Everyone already knew.

  And then I come home and everyone wants me to talk. To explain. To be okay in a way they can see.

  I'm okay. I'm mostly okay. I just need people to sit with me without making me prove it.

  So can we do that? Can you just sit? You don't have to say anything. You can drink your soda. We can watch your cousin try to light the grill.

  That's all. That's what I need. The quiet.

  204 words, about 1 min 27 sec spoken (estimate)

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• DramaticAny gender40s plus1 to 2 minutesGood for teens

  Room 114

  Mr. or Ms. Avery, 60s, a high school teacher, on their last day before retirement, to a student who has stayed behind after class. Avery wants the student to apply to college.

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  You're still here. Everyone else ran out like the building was on fire. You're stacking chairs. You don't have to stack chairs. That's not your job.

  Sit down a second.

  Thirty four years. Thirty four years in this room. That stain on the ceiling is from 1998. A chemistry project. I wasn't the chemistry teacher. Long story.

  I've had maybe three thousand students. I don't remember all of them. That's the truth nobody says. But I remember the ones who stayed late to stack the chairs. Every single one.

  You haven't turned in the application. The scholarship one. Ms. Patel told me. Deadline is Friday.

  I'm going to guess why. You think it's not for people like you. You think somebody with your grades and your job after school and your little brothers to pick up at four o'clock doesn't get to want that.

  I read your essay on the lighthouse. I've been teaching for thirty four years and I have never read anything like it. I took it home. I read it to my wife.

  So here's my last assignment. My very last one. Turn it in by Friday.

  I'll stack the chairs. Go home. Write.

  197 words, about 1 min 24 sec spoken (estimate)

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• DramaticMale20s to 30s1 to 2 minutes

  Visiting Hours

  Andre, 20s, on the phone through the glass in a jail visiting room, to his younger brother, who is starting to hang out with the same crowd Andre did. Andre wants him to walk away from them.

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  Don't smile at me like that. Don't do the thing with your eyebrows like this is a vacation. Sit up. Look at me.

  Mom says you got new sneakers. Two hundred dollar sneakers. Where'd you get two hundred dollars, Jaylen?

  Don't. Don't tell me a story. I invented that story. I told it to her at your age, with the same face, in the same kitchen.

  Listen to me. You think those guys are your friends because they laugh at your jokes and drive you around. They laughed at my jokes too. You know how many of them have come to see me in here? Count. Go ahead. I'll wait.

  Zero. Mom comes. Grandma comes when her knee lets her. You come, when Mom makes you.

  I've got two years left. Two years of this phone and this glass and this chair. I want to walk out of here and see you at a graduation. Not in here, on the other side of this window, with me telling you it's going to be fine.

  Give the sneakers back. Tell them your brother said so.

  They'll laugh. Let them laugh.

  189 words, about 1 min 21 sec spoken (estimate)

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• DramaticMale40s plus1 to 2 minutes

  The Auction

  Walt, 60s, a farmer, standing in his empty barn, to the bank representative who has come to set up the auction. Walt wants one more season.

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  You can set your table up over there, by the door. That's where my wife used to sell eggs. Folks will know where to stand.

  I'm not going to make trouble. I know how this works. I've been to six of these. I bought a tractor at the Lindqvist place when I was thirty and felt bad about it for a week.

  I just want to ask you one thing, and then I'll get out of your way.

  One season. Give me until October. The corn's in. It's in the ground. It's coming up good, better than the last three years. You can walk out there and look. If I get the harvest in, I can make the next payment, and some of the one after.

  I know what the papers say. I know the numbers. I'm not stupid. I'm just old, and I've watched that field come back from worse than me.

  My grandfather broke that ground with a horse. My father fixed every fence on it. My son doesn't want it, and that's all right. That's his life. But I'd like to be the one who decides when it's done. Not a man with a folding table.

  October. That's all I'm asking. Then I'll ring the bell for you myself.

  212 words, about 1 min 31 sec spoken (estimate)

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• DramaticFemale20s to 30s1 to 2 minutes

  Second Position

  Elise, 20s, a ballet dancer recovering from a knee injury, in a rehearsal studio, to her mother, who has driven her to every class since she was five. Elise wants permission to stop dancing.

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  Mom. Turn off the music. Please. I'm not going to warm up today.

  I need to tell you something, and I need you to not do your face. The face where you're already planning the next audition.

  The doctor says the knee will heal. It'll be strong enough. I could go back in the spring. You heard him. You wrote it down in your notebook. You underlined spring.

  I don't want to go back.

  I've been lying on the couch for six weeks with ice on my leg, and for the first time since I was five years old, I didn't have to be anywhere. And I wasn't sad, Mom. That's what scared me. I thought I'd be sad.

  I read books. I made bread. I went to a coffee shop at ten in the morning on a Tuesday and just sat there, like a normal person.

  You gave me everything. I know that. The car rides. The shoes. The second job. I know what it cost you. And I'm so scared that if I stop, all of that turns into nothing.

  Tell me it doesn't. Please. Tell me you'd still drive me somewhere. Even if it isn't here.

  199 words, about 1 min 25 sec spoken (estimate)

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• DramaticAny gender20s to 30s1 to 2 minutes

  What I Saw

  Casey, 20s, in a police interview room, to the detective. Casey gave a statement yesterday about a hit and run, and now wants to change it, because the driver was Casey's best friend.

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  I need to change my statement. The one from yesterday. Can you take it out and put it on the table? I want to see it.

  I said I didn't see the driver. I said it was too dark and the car was going too fast.

  That's not true. I saw him.

  You don't know what this is like. You've probably never had to do this. He's been my best friend since we were six. He taught me to ride a bike by running behind me holding the seat, and then he let go and didn't tell me, and I rode all the way to the end of the street before I knew I was doing it by myself.

  He's not a bad person. He was scared. He's probably sitting in his kitchen right now, not sleeping, waiting for someone to knock.

  But there's a man in the hospital who has kids, and his kids keep asking who did this. I saw them on the news. The little one was holding a drawing.

  I can't stop seeing that drawing.

  Write it down. I'll tell you everything. And then I'm going to drive to his house and tell him myself. Before you get there. I owe him that.

  207 words, about 1 min 29 sec spoken (estimate)

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• DramaticFemale20s to 30s1 to 2 minutes

  The Envelope

  Nora, 30, in a coffee shop, to the birth mother she is meeting for the first time. Nora wants an answer to one question before she will say anything else.

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  No. Please don't. Don't hug me yet. I'm sorry. I just need to sit down first.

  I brought this envelope. It's everything I have from the agency. Two pages. Your first name. Your age, nineteen. And one line in the notes field that says "mother expressed wish for child to have a musical home."

  That's it. That's the whole file. For thirty years I've been reading that one line.

  My parents didn't know what it meant. They aren't musical. My dad can't clap on the beat. But they bought me a piano because of that line. A used one, with a broken F key. I learned on that piano. I teach piano now. I have forty students.

  So I have one question. Just one. Then we can do the rest. The coffee and the photos and whatever comes next.

  Why music? Out of everything you could have asked for me. Not money. Not a good school. Not a big house. You asked for music.

  I need to know if you meant it. Or if it was just something you said to the woman with the clipboard because she was waiting for you to say something.

  Because my whole life is built on it.

  203 words, about 1 min 27 sec spoken (estimate)

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• DramaticMale40s plus1 to 2 minutes

  Final Timeout

  Coach Lyle Brennan, 50s, in a locker room at halftime, to a high school basketball team losing by eighteen points in his last game before retirement. He wants them to stop playing for him.

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  Sit down. Everybody. Water bottles down. Look at me.

  I heard what you were saying in the hallway. "Win it for Coach." "Last game, boys." I know. I know you mean it. It's kind.

  And it's why we're down eighteen.

  You've been playing the whole half like you're carrying something heavy. Like you're scared to drop me. Every pass is careful. Every shot is a prayer. You're not playing basketball, you're playing a funeral.

  I don't need a trophy. I've got a shelf at home with eleven of them, and my wife dusts them, and nobody else has looked at them since 2009.

  Here's what I want. I want to watch Terrell throw a pass behind his back that he's not supposed to throw. I want to see Marcus take the shot from the logo that I've told him a hundred times not to take. I want to see you laugh on the court. I haven't seen any of you laugh in four weeks.

  Play for each other. Play like it's the park. Play like I'm not even here.

  If you lose, you lose. That's fine. I'll still remember this team.

  Now go have some fun. That's an order. My last one.

  202 words, about 1 min 27 sec spoken (estimate)

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• SeriocomicFemale40s plusAbout 1 minute

  Eleven Casseroles

  Joan, 70s, a recent widow, at her front door, to a neighbor holding yet another casserole. Joan wants the neighbor to stop bringing food and come inside to sit with her.

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  Oh, Barbara. Another one. That's lovely. What is it? Tuna. Of course it's tuna.

  Barbara, I want you to come see my refrigerator. No, come in. Look. That's eleven casseroles. Eleven. I've labeled them. That one's from the Pattersons. That one's from church. That one I think is from a stranger. I don't know who that is. It has olives.

  I'm one woman. I eat like a bird. Frank was the eater. Frank would have had all of these gone by Wednesday and then asked what was for dessert.

  Here's what I don't have. Anyone to sit at the table. Everyone drops off a dish at the door and runs, like I'm contagious. Like grief is catching.

  So I'm going to heat this up. Your tuna. And you're going to sit in Frank's chair and tell me something boring about your gutters.

  That's all I want. Somebody boring at the table.

  151 words, about 1 min 5 sec spoken (estimate)

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• SeriocomicMale20s to 30sAbout 1 minute

  Custody of the Dog

  Greg, 30s, in a divorce mediator's office, to the mediator, with his soon to be ex wife sitting across the table. He has agreed to everything except the dog, and wants the dog.

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  She can have the house. I said that already. She can have the car, the good blender, the couch we fought about for three weekends at the furniture store. Take it. All of it.

  But not Waffles.

  I know he was technically her birthday present. I know that. But who walks him at six in the morning? Me. Who sat with him on the kitchen floor during the Fourth of July fireworks for two hours while he shook like a leaf? Me. Who knows that he only eats the dry food if you say "good boy" in a British accent? Me. She doesn't even know about the accent.

  Look. I'm not trying to win. We stopped trying to win a while ago, she and I. We're just tired.

  But when I come home to that apartment, I need one thing to be happy to see me.

  Just one. Please. He doesn't care about the blender.

  155 words, about 1 min 6 sec spoken (estimate)

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• SeriocomicAny gender20s to 30sAbout 1 minute

  Full Disclosure

  Robin, 30s, on a first date at a restaurant, to the person across the table who has just mentioned they might skip dessert. Robin wants them to stay a little longer.

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  Before you ask for the check, can I say something? It's a little honest. You can leave after.

  I almost didn't come tonight. I sat in my car outside for twenty minutes. I practiced being a person who goes on dates. I said "Hi, nice to meet you" to my rearview mirror nine times. A man walking his dog saw me.

  The last time I did this was four years ago, and it went very well, and then it went very badly, and I've been sort of sitting out the game since then. On the bench. With a snack.

  And then you showed up, and you were nice to the waiter, and you laughed at my joke about the bread basket, which was not a good joke.

  So I'm just saying. They have a chocolate thing on the menu. It's for two people. It says so. It would be a waste of a menu item not to.

  Stay for dessert. That's all. Low stakes. Just cake.

  166 words, about 1 min 11 sec spoken (estimate)

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• SeriocomicMale40s plusAbout 1 minute

  Dad's Pancakes

  Phil, 40s, a single father, at the kitchen stove on a Saturday morning, to his teenage daughter, who has barely spoken in a week. He wants her to tell him what's wrong.

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  Morning. I made pancakes. Shaped like Mickey Mouse. I know you're sixteen. I know. But your mother used to make them like this and I thought maybe the ears would help.

  They did not come out like Mickey Mouse. That one looks like a potato with ambitions.

  So. Big week. You've said, I counted, eleven words to me since Monday. Four of them were "fine." Two were "whatever." One was "Dad," but in the voice that means "please stop existing."

  I'm not going to make you talk. I read a book. Well, I read the back of a book. It said to give teenagers space. So here's your space. It's next to the syrup.

  But I'm also going to stand right here and flip pancakes until you're ready. I have flour for, I'd say, three more days.

  Whatever it is, I'm on your side. Even if it's my fault. Especially if it's my fault.

  Eat a potato.

  157 words, about 1 min 7 sec spoken (estimate)

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• SeriocomicAny gender40s plusAbout 1 minute

  Ronald

  Pat, 50s, alone in a quiet house a month after their spouse moved out, to the robot vacuum cleaner, which keeps bumping into the same chair. Pat wants it to stop leaving too.

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  Ronald. Ronald, look at me. You hit that chair four times. It's the same chair. It's always been there. It's not new. You know the chair.

  I named you Ronald because Diane said it was silly to name a vacuum. I said everything with a schedule deserves a name. She rolled her eyes. That was when we still rolled our eyes at each other in a nice way.

  You know what's strange? You're the only thing in this house that still does what it did before. Every morning at nine you wake up and go around the kitchen and under the table and you get stuck on the rug in the hall, and I come and rescue you. And it's the best part of my day.

  That's sad. I know that's sad. Don't beep at me.

  I'm going to move the chair. There. Now you're free.

  Don't go too far, Ronald. Come back when you're done.

  156 words, about 1 min 7 sec spoken (estimate)

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• SeriocomicFemale20s to 30sAbout 1 minute

  The Bangs

  Leah, 20s, in a salon chair, to her hairdresser, who is holding the scissors. She has asked for bangs the day before a big job interview and now wants to explain why.

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  Wait. Before you cut. I need to tell you why I want the bangs.

  No, it's not a breakup. Everyone thinks it's a breakup. It's not a breakup. Well, it's a breakup with my old job, technically, but I'm the one who left, so it's a good breakup.

  I have an interview tomorrow. At ten. For a job I really, really want. Art director. My own team. My own office with a door.

  And I have looked exactly the same since high school. Same ponytail. Same face. Like I'm waiting for someone to tell me I'm allowed to grow up.

  So I want the bangs. I want to walk in there looking like someone who makes bold choices.

  Is this a terrible idea? You can tell me. Your face is telling me. You're making the face my mother makes.

  Okay. Small bangs. Brave, but small. Like me.

  Go. Cut before I change my mind.

  154 words, about 1 min 6 sec spoken (estimate)

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• SeriocomicAny gender20s to 30sAbout 1 minuteGood for teens

  Have You Seen This Dog?

  Dana, any age, at a bus stop, to a stranger who has just politely refused a lost dog flyer. Dana wants them to take the flyer and actually look at it.

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  No, please, just take one. You don't have to do anything with it. Just look at his face for three seconds. That's all I ask.

  His name is Moose. He's small. I know the name doesn't match. He was supposed to grow, and he didn't, and we'd already told everyone.

  He got out on Tuesday when the mail carrier left the gate open. Not her fault. He's fast. He's built low to the ground, like a little sports car.

  I've put up two hundred and twelve of these. I've talked to the guy at the hardware store, the lady at the laundromat, three kids on scooters. One kid said he saw Moose eating a pizza crust behind the library. That's my best lead.

  So if you see him, don't chase him. He thinks it's a game. Just sit down on the sidewalk and say "cheese." He'll come right to you.

  Cheese. That's the password. Please remember it.

  157 words, about 1 min 7 sec spoken (estimate)

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• SeriocomicFemale40s plusAbout 1 minute

  Thirty One Years

  Doris, 60s, at her retirement party in an office break room, to her coworkers. She wants to say something true instead of the speech she was given.

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  Thank you. Thank you. Please put the cake down, Steven, there'll be time for cake.

  Human resources gave me a speech to read. It's very nice. It says I was a "valued team member" and that I "brought energy to every quarterly cycle." I did not write that. I don't know what a quarterly cycle is, and I've been here thirty one years.

  Here's what I actually want to say.

  I started here when the computers were the size of refrigerators. I've had nine bosses. Four were good. I won't say which four. They know.

  I'm not going to miss the work. I'm going to miss the people. I'm going to miss Raymond's terrible jokes at the copier and the way Linda hums when she's angry.

  And I'll miss walking in here at eight every morning and knowing exactly who I was.

  Now I have to figure that out at home. Wish me luck.

  Steven, now you can have the cake.

  161 words, about 1 min 9 sec spoken (estimate)

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• SeriocomicMale20s to 30sAbout 1 minute

  The Attic Box

  Kevin, 30s, in his late parents' attic, to his sister, who is ruthlessly sorting everything into keep and donate piles. Kevin wants to keep a box of ridiculous things.

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  You can't donate that. Put it down. That's the bird lamp. You don't donate the bird lamp.

  Yes, I know it's ugly. It's horrifying. It's a ceramic pelican with a light bulb in its mouth. But Dad won it at the county fair throwing rings at bottles, and he carried it to the car like it was a newborn. Mom made him keep it in the garage for ten years. And then one Christmas she put it on the mantel with a bow on it, and he cried. Real tears. Over a pelican.

  I know what you're doing. You're being practical. You're going fast because if you go slow you'll fall apart. I know because you've done it since we were kids.

  But I want this box. The pelican. The bowling trophy. Mom's terrible puzzle with three pieces missing.

  Give me the box, Jen. Go slow with me. Just for this one.

  152 words, about 1 min 5 sec spoken (estimate)

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• SeriocomicMale40s plusAbout 1 minute

  Grandpa Learns to Text

  Walter, 80s, on the couch, to his college age grandson, who is visiting for the weekend. Walter has just learned to text and wants his grandson to text him back more often.

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  Sit down. Sit. I want to show you something. Look at this. Look at my phone.

  I sent you a message on Tuesday. See? "Hello grandson stop how is school stop." Your grandmother said I don't need to write "stop." I like the stop. It's very clear.

  And you sent back a little yellow face with the tongue out. That's it. What does that mean? Is that good? Are you sick?

  I've been learning. Your cousin Annie showed me the little pictures. I can do the thumbs up now. I can do the cake. I sent your aunt a cake for her birthday and she called me crying.

  Here's my point. I'm eighty one. I don't need a phone call. I know you're busy. You've got your girlfriend and your exams and your band.

  Just send me something. Once a week. A picture of your lunch. A word.

  I'll send back the thumbs. I'm very good at the thumbs.

  159 words, about 1 min 8 sec spoken (estimate)

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• SeriocomicFemale20s to 30sAbout 1 minute

  The Thirty Ninth Application

  Ivy, 30s, on the phone with a hiring manager at a small observatory, who has called to say the position has been filled. Ivy wants a chance anyway.

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  No, I understand. Filled. That makes sense. Somebody wonderful got it, I'm sure. I'm sure they're very tall and very qualified and have their own telescope.

  Can I just say one thing before you hang up? I'll be fast.

  This is my thirty ninth application. I keep a spreadsheet. It's color coded. Red is no. It's a very red spreadsheet. From far away it looks like a sunset.

  But you're the first one who called. Everyone else sends an email that says "we've decided to move forward with other candidates," like I'm a car they drove past.

  You called. You said my cover letter made you laugh. The part about naming my houseplants after moons.

  So I'm not asking for the job. I'm asking you to keep my name. On a sticky note. If the tall person doesn't work out. If someone needs to answer phones. Anything.

  I'll bring my own snacks. I'm very low maintenance.

  156 words, about 1 min 7 sec spoken (estimate)

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• ComedicFemaleTeenAbout 1 minuteGood for teens

  The Locker Combination

  Maya, 14, on the first day of high school, to an older student at the next locker. Maya cannot open her locker and wants help without looking like she needs help.

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  Hi. No, I'm fine. I'm totally fine. I'm just, you know, taking a moment with my locker. Getting to know it. We're still in the early stages.

  The combination is 32, 14, 7. I know that. I've known that since August. My mom wrote it on my hand. You can still see it. Look. It's faded, but it's there.

  The problem is the spinning. You go right, then left past it once, or twice? Then right? Who designed this? Was it a spy? It feels like a spy designed it.

  I've been here eleven minutes. The bell rings in four. I have biology, which I'm told has a teacher who locks the door at the bell, like it's a vault.

  So, hypothetically, if a person were very cool and did not need help, but needed the locker open, what would you do?

  Just show me once. I'll pretend I knew. You can pretend too.

  154 words, about 1 min 6 sec spoken (estimate)

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• DramaticFemaleTeenAbout 1 minuteGood for teens

  Understudy

  Ava, 15, in an empty school auditorium, to her drama teacher, after the cast list went up and she was named understudy for the lead. She wants to know what she did wrong.

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  Can I ask you something? You don't have to look at the list. I've read it. I've read it enough for both of us.

  Understudy. I know what it means. It means I learn every line and every song and every step, and then I stand in the wings and watch someone else do it, and hope she gets a cold. Which I would never actually hope for. Mostly.

  I'm not here to complain. I'm here because I want to get better, and I don't know what better means.

  Was it the song? I went flat on the high part. I heard it. I wanted to stop and start again but you're not supposed to stop.

  Or was it something else? Because if it's something I can fix, I'll fix it. If it's something about me, I need to know that too.

  Just tell me the truth. Please. I can take it. I think I can take it.

  158 words, about 1 min 8 sec spoken (estimate)

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• ComedicMaleTeenAbout 1 minuteGood for teens

  The Permission Slip

  Noah, 14, at the kitchen table, to his mother, who has just been handed a permission slip for an overnight class trip to a science museum. He wants her to sign it without asking a single question.

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  Okay, so before you read it, I want to say that it's educational. That's the main thing. Very educational. The word "science" is in the title.

  It's one night. At the science museum. We sleep under the dinosaur. Under it, Mom. Not on it. They're very clear about that.

  Yes, there's a fee. It's forty dollars. But that includes dinner, breakfast and a flashlight tour, which is basically a class. It's like forty dollars for a class.

  I know what you're going to say. You're going to say "remember the last trip." The aquarium was not my fault. That penguin was already out when I got there.

  I've done all my homework. I took out the trash without being asked. Twice. I folded towels. I folded them wrong, but I folded them.

  Please just sign it. Right there. Where it says "parent." You're a parent. You're the best parent.

  Thank you. I love you. Don't call Mr. Hughes.

  158 words, about 1 min 8 sec spoken (estimate)

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• DramaticMale20s to 30sAbout 1 minute

  The Spare Key

  Daniel, 30s, on the front step of an apartment, to his ex partner, who has opened the door but not stepped aside. Daniel has come to return his spare key and wants to say one honest thing.

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  I'm not coming in. Don't worry. I just came to give you this. The key. The spare. It was still on my ring with the green tag you put on it so I'd stop losing it.

  I kept forgetting to take it off. That's not true. I kept not taking it off. There's a difference.

  I'm not here to fix anything. I know that's done. You were right about most of it. I was working too much and calling it a plan. I kept saying "next year," and next year kept moving.

  I just wanted to say one thing to your face and not in a text.

  You made that apartment feel like somewhere I wanted to come home to. Nobody ever did that before. I didn't know how to say it while it was happening.

  That's all. That's the whole speech. It was longer in the car.

  Here. Take it. Be well.

  153 words, about 1 min 6 sec spoken (estimate)

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• ComedicAny gender20s to 30sAbout 1 minuteGood for teens

  Name on the Cup

  Jamie, 20s, a barista, to a customer who is holding up a coffee cup with their name spelled wrong. Jamie wants the customer to accept the cup and move on before the line riots.

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  I see it. I know. It's wrong. You said "Siobhan," and I wrote "Shivon." In my defense, that's how it sounds. Your name is a trick. Your name is a trap for baristas.

  Here's what I want you to understand. There are twenty two people in that line. I have made forty drinks in the last hour. One of them was for a man who wanted "a latte, but make it a little sad." I don't know what that means. I gave him oat milk.

  I could remake the cup. I could take out a new cup and write your name correctly, with all of its secret letters. But your drink would get cold, and the twenty two people would turn into an angry mob.

  Or you could take this cup, which is perfect inside, and know that I tried. With love. And bad spelling.

  Thank you. Have a great day, Shivon.

  Sorry. Siobhan.

  154 words, about 1 min 6 sec spoken (estimate)

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