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Short Monologues: 26 One Minute Pieces
These 26 original short monologues are 150 words or less, so each runs about a minute when spoken at a natural pace. They cover comedic and dramatic pieces for women, men and any gender, from teens to 70s, each with a setup. Filter by tone, gender and age, then copy or print.
Written and reviewed by ScriptLix Editorial
In short
A one minute monologue is about 120 to 150 words, since most people speak around 140 words a minute. These 26 original pieces are all 150 words or less, comedic and dramatic, for women, men and teens.
Short monologues (1 minute)
Showing 26 of 26. All original, written for ScriptLix. Running times are estimates at 140 spoken words a minute. Time yourself out loud.
- ComedicMale20s to 30sAbout 1 minuteGood for teens
Six Chirps
Luis, 30s, standing on a kitchen chair at three in the morning, to the smoke detector chirping for a new battery. He has no battery, and he wants a ceasefire until the hardware store opens.
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Okay. I hear you. Everybody in the building hears you.
Here's where we are. It's three in the morning. I don't have a nine volt battery. Nobody has a nine volt battery. I have double A's. I have a watch battery from a car key. I have the battery out of the TV remote, which I'm holding up to you right now as a sign of respect.
You chirp every forty seconds. I counted. I've been on this chair for six chirps.
So here's my offer. You stop until seven. At seven, I walk to the hardware store in my pajamas and buy you the nicest battery they sell. Name brand. Gold top.
Deal? You're thinking about it. I respect that.
Thirty eight. Thirty nine.
No. Come on.
128 words, about 55 sec spoken (estimate)
- ComedicMale20s to 30sAbout 1 minute
The Bathroom Membership
Kevin, 30s, at the front desk of a gym, to the young staff member, trying to cancel a membership he has paid for twenty six months and used twice. He wants out, with his dignity.
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Hi. I'd like to cancel my membership. No, I don't need to talk to Trent. I've talked to Trent. Trent is very convincing. That's why I'm still a member.
Let me save us both some time. I've been a member for twenty six months. I've been inside this building twice. Once for the tour. Once to use the bathroom during a parade.
I've paid you eight hundred and eleven dollars. That's a very expensive bathroom.
I know what you're going to say. There's a summer special. You'll throw in a free smoothie. I don't want the smoothie. Every smoothie here tastes like a lawn.
I'm not a gym person. I'm a guy who walks to the mailbox and feels proud of himself.
So hand me the form. I'll sign it. And you can tell Trent I was strong. Tell him I was so strong.
144 words, about 1 min 2 sec spoken (estimate)
- ComedicMaleTeenAbout 1 minuteGood for teens
Group Chat Admin
Noah, 15, in the driveway, to his mom, who has just announced phones stay home for the family camping weekend. He wants to keep his phone, for the good of thirty one people.
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Mom. I hear you. Phones stay home. Family time. Nature. I love nature.
But you don't understand my position. I'm the admin of the group chat. Thirty one people. If I'm gone for three days, nobody can add anybody. Nobody can stop anybody renaming it. Somebody already tried to rename it "Noah's Mom Drives Like a Grandma" while I was in the shower. In the shower, Mom. I had four minutes.
You don't know what these people are capable of.
So here's my offer. The phone stays in the tent. I check it twice a day. Morning and night. Like medicine.
And I'll do all the dishes. In the lake. With a sponge.
Wait, you can't wash dishes in a lake? See, I didn't know that. If I had my phone, I could look it up.
136 words, about 58 sec spoken (estimate)
- ComedicMale20s to 30sAbout 1 minute
Which Knee
Dev, late 20s, in his living room, to his roommate Femi, who is standing in for Dev's girlfriend while Dev rehearses his marriage proposal. He wants Femi to take it seriously.
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Okay, you're Anika. Stand there. No, Anika doesn't slouch. Anika has posture. Good.
So she walks in. I'm by the window. I turn around slowly, and I say "Anika." Don't laugh. If you laugh, I laugh, and if I laugh on the night, she'll think it's a prank.
Then I say the thing about the bus. When we met, she was on the wrong bus, and I told her, and she said "I know," and stayed on it anyway. Got off at my stop. Walked six blocks the wrong way just to keep talking.
Then I kneel. Which knee? It doesn't matter? It matters, Femi. One knee is proposing and the other knee is tying a shoe.
Then the ring. Where's the ring. It was in my hand. It was in my hand.
Nobody move. Nobody move. It's under the couch. Okay. From the top.
145 words, about 1 min 2 sec spoken (estimate)
- ComedicMale40s plusAbout 1 minute
The Dent
Ray, 60s, at a backyard cookout, to his son in law, who has just wheeled in an expensive new smoker that connects to an app. Ray wants it known who runs this grill. Then he wants to know how the app works.
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So that's the new smoker. It's very big. Does it have Wi-Fi? Of course it does. Mine has a lid.
Thirty four years I've stood at this grill. I've cooked through two hurricanes and a christening. I know where the hot spot is. Back left, by the dent from when Carol's brother backed into it.
And now you show up with a machine that texts you when the brisket's ready. A brisket shouldn't text. A brisket should make you wait and suffer.
I'm not upset. I'm curious. In a hostile way.
What's it say now? "Internal temperature one sixty five." It tells you the inside? Without cutting it open?
Huh.
Okay. Show me the app. Not because I'm switching. I'm looking. Don't tell Carol I asked. And move the cooler. You're blocking my dent.
134 words, about 57 sec spoken (estimate)
- SeriocomicMale20s to 30sAbout 1 minute
The Brian Scarf
Jonah, 20s, in the kitchen during Sunday dinner, to his girlfriend's grandmother, who has called him Brian for two years. Tonight he has decided to correct her.
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Mrs. Kowalski, can I have a minute? Before dessert?
I've been coming to Sunday dinner for two years. You've been very kind. You always give me the corner piece of lasagna. You knitted me a scarf. It says Brian on it.
My name is Jonah.
I know. I should have said something the first night. But you said "Brian, sit by me," and you looked so happy, and I thought, fine, one dinner. Then it was Easter. Then Christmas. Then your sister started calling me Brian. Then the priest.
Who is Brian? Was there a Brian? Your first husband. Oh. Oh no.
He was a good dancer? And he made you laugh. And he fixed the porch.
Okay. You know what. I'll take a look at the porch.
Brian will take a look at the porch.
136 words, about 58 sec spoken (estimate)
- DramaticFemale20s to 30sAbout 1 minute
The Pass
Tamsin, 30s, a sous chef, in the restaurant kitchen after close, to the head chef, who just gave the promotion she was promised to someone else. She wants the reason, to her face.
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Don't wipe the counter. I'll wipe the counter. I've wiped this counter every night for six years. Look at me instead.
You gave it to Paolo. Fine. Paolo is fast. Paolo also hid in the walk in fridge in August when the fish order was late, and I ran his station and mine.
I'm not here to trash him. I'm here because when you told the room, you looked at the floor. You don't look at the floor. You see a tired basil leaf from across the pass.
So say it. If it's my food, I'll fix my food. If it's that I talk back, I'll keep talking back, but at least I'll know.
If you'd rather lose me than promote me, say that too.
I'll still finish the stock. But I'm done guessing.
134 words, about 57 sec spoken (estimate)
- DramaticFemale40s plusAbout 1 minute
Three Steps
Denise, 50s, a high school basketball referee, in the parking lot after a game, to a father who followed her to her car shouting. She wants him to go home.
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Sir, take one step back. Thank you.
I made the call. I'd make it again. Your son traveled. Three steps. He takes three steps every game, and nobody calls it, because he's good and the gym is loud.
I called it because one day a referee at a college will call it in front of eight thousand people, and he won't know why.
I've done this twenty two years. I make forty dollars a game. I've been called things in this parking lot I wouldn't say to a dog. I don't do it for the forty dollars.
So keep yelling, and it goes in my report, and your son can read it. Or go home, take him to the park tomorrow, and count his steps.
My keys are out. I'm leaving either way.
133 words, about 57 sec spoken (estimate)
- DramaticFemaleTeenAbout 1 minuteGood for teens
One Second
Kiara, 16, in the school hallway, to her best friend, the day before she announces she's transferring to their rival school for its swim program. She wants her friend to understand, even if she can't forgive.
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I wanted to tell you before the email goes out. Coach is announcing it at practice. He's going to say it like I died.
I'm going to Westbrook. For the pool. They have eight lanes and a coach who swam at nationals and a bus that leaves at five in the morning, and I'll be on it every day for two years.
I'm not asking you to be happy. I know you'll be in the stands on the other side now. You'll have to cheer against me. I'd do it too. I'd be loud about it.
But it's not about us. It's about one second. I'm one second off the times colleges look at. One second. I can't find it here. I've looked. I've looked every morning since eighth grade.
So be mad. Be mad at Westbrook. Just don't be mad at the one second.
145 words, about 1 min 2 sec spoken (estimate)
- DramaticFemale40s plusAbout 1 minute
The Eleventh of April
Ruth, 70s, back at the open house of the home she has just put up for sale, to the young couple about to make an offer. She has one thing to ask them before they do.
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I'm not supposed to be here. The agent told me to go to a coffee shop. I went. I had a coffee. I came back.
You're the ones with the twins? I saw them on the stairs. They counted all fourteen. Everyone counts the stairs.
I'll be quick. The furnace is fine. The roof is newish. The third step squeaks, and you'll love that, because you'll always know who's coming down at night.
But the apple tree. Out back, by the fence. It looks like it's dying. It isn't. It does that every March. It looks dead until about the eleventh of April, and then all at once it isn't.
Every buyer so far wanted it gone. Room for a patio.
Don't. Give it one April. If it doesn't come back, cut it down, and I'll never know.
But it will. It always has.
144 words, about 1 min 2 sec spoken (estimate)
- DramaticFemale20s to 30sAbout 1 minute
Halftime
Coach Yolanda, 30s, in the locker room at halftime of a state final, her team down three goals, to her players. She wants them to stop playing not to lose.
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Sit down. Everybody sit. Drink something. Not you, Abby, you've had four. Breathe.
Three to nothing. Say it. Out loud. Three to nothing. Good. Now it's said. It's a number. It's not chasing you anymore.
I watched that first half. You weren't bad. You were careful. Every pass sideways. Every time somebody had a lane, she looked for someone safer to give it to. You played like you were carrying something you might drop.
Here's what you're carrying. Nothing. The version of this game where we win easy is gone. So stop protecting it.
I want ugly. I want shots from stupid places. I want Lena taking on two defenders and losing it and taking them on again.
If we lose four to nothing swinging, I'll buy pizza for a year.
If we lose three to nothing tiptoeing, I'll never forget it.
Go.
143 words, about 1 min 1 sec spoken (estimate)
- DramaticFemale40s plusAbout 1 minute
Before I Cut
Marisol, 50s, a seamstress, in her shop, pinning the hem of a wedding dress on a bride who has gone very quiet. She wants the truth before the scissors come out.
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Stand still. Arms out. There.
Thirty years I've done this, mija. I can feel it through the fabric. Your shoulders go up every time your phone buzzes. There. Again.
Brides lose a little weight before a wedding. You've lost eleven pounds in five weeks. That's not nerves. That's not eating.
I'm not your mother. I'm the woman with pins in her mouth. Tell me anything, I forget it by Friday.
So before I cut this hem, I'll ask once. Because once I cut, it's cut. The fabric doesn't come back.
Are we hemming this dress?
You don't have to say it. Nod, or don't.
Okay. Okay. Step down. Careful of the pins. We'll get you a sandwich first.
118 words, about 51 sec spoken (estimate)
- ComedicFemale20s to 30sAbout 1 minute
Room B
Bea, 30s, at the lectern of a funeral home, halfway through a heartfelt eulogy, to a room of mourners who look puzzled. She is realizing she is at the wrong service, and wants to leave with some grace.
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And Harold always said, life is short, buy the boat. And he bought the boat.
The boat? Nobody? Harold. The Lady Marjorie.
Okay. I'm getting some looks.
Is this the Abernathy service? This is the Chen service. This is Room B. I'm supposed to be in Room A.
I am so sorry. It's a beautiful room. Better flowers. And I'm sure Mr. Chen was wonderful. The photo is lovely. He has a kind face. A kind, specific face that is not Harold's.
I'm going to walk backwards out the door now.
Actually, could I sign the book? I feel like I owe him that. I've been here eleven minutes. I cried at the slideshow.
Okay. Room A. God bless.
119 words, about 51 sec spoken (estimate)
- ComedicAny gender40s plusAbout 1 minuteGood for teens
The Goat
Pat, 50s, a driving instructor, in the passenger seat, to a teenage student who has just driven up onto the curb and frozen. Pat wants the student to breathe and try again.
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Okay. We're on the curb. That's fine. The car's fine. The mailbox is mostly fine.
Hands off the wheel a second. Shake them out. You've been holding it like it owes you money.
Want to know a secret? I hit a goat on my driving test. Not hard. The goat walked off like nothing happened. And I passed, because I stopped, I checked my mirrors, and I apologized to the goat.
That's all driving is. Not being perfect. Noticing.
So. Gentle on the gas. Look over your shoulder, not at me. I'm not traffic.
Little more. Little more. There you go. Off the curb. On the road.
See? Nobody got hurt. Not even the goat.
115 words, about 49 sec spoken (estimate)
- DramaticMale20s to 30sAbout 1 minute
The Last Ferry
Tomas, 30s, a deckhand on a small island, at the ferry ramp at night, to his younger brother, who is leaving for a job in the city and can't make himself step aboard. Tomas wants him to go.
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Ramp goes up in two minutes. Get on.
No, I'm not coming to visit. Who'd fix Mrs. Leary's gutters? Who'd tell the tourists the lighthouse isn't haunted, it's just Dad's old radio?
Listen. Dad wanted one of us to stay and one of us to go. He never said it. He didn't say things. But he bought you a suitcase when you were twelve. He bought me a toolbox.
That wasn't an accident.
So go. Wear the bad suit. Answer when Mom calls, even at work.
And when you're homesick, don't come back. Not for a year. Call me. I'll hold the phone up to the water.
Ramp's going up. Go on.
112 words, about 48 sec spoken (estimate)
- ComedicAny genderTeenAbout 1 minuteGood for teens
The Lost and Found
Casey, 14, at the school intercom during morning announcements, to the whole school. Casey wants people to come get their stuff, especially whoever owns the trumpet.
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Good morning, Lincoln Middle. This is Casey with an update from the lost and found.
The lost and found is full. It's not a box anymore. It's a room. It has a smell. It has weather.
We have forty one water bottles. Nineteen hoodies, all gray. One retainer, and if it's yours, please, you've been eating without a retainer for three weeks.
We also have a trumpet. How do you lose a trumpet? It's loud. It's gold. You carry it with both hands.
Anything not claimed by Friday goes to donation. Except the trumpet. Mr. Ruiz says the trumpet stays until somebody admits it.
Check your lockers. Check your hearts. Casey out.
112 words, about 48 sec spoken (estimate)
- DramaticMale40s plusAbout 1 minute
End of the Line
Lionel, 60s, a city bus driver at the end of his last shift before retirement, to a teenage regular who rides the night route every night and never gets off. Lionel wants to leave him something before he goes.
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End of the line, son. Same as every night.
You know you don't have to get off. You never do. You ride it out and you ride it back. Eleven months now. I see you in the mirror.
I never asked. Not my business. A bus is a place you can be where nobody asks.
But tomorrow's not me. Tomorrow's a young guy named Petrov. He's nice. But he'll ask. Or he won't notice you at all. I don't know which is worse.
So here. That's my number on the transfer slip. I'm going to be home a lot now. My wife says I'll be in her way.
You call it if the night's long. You don't have to say why. Just tell me which stop. I know all of them.
Go on. I'll wait till you're across the street.
140 words, about 1 min spoken (estimate)
- ComedicFemale40s plusAbout 1 minute
The Map at the Front
Linda, 60s, hosting her book club in her living room, to the group, before anyone can start discussing the book. She has a confession, and she wants to stay in the club.
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Before we start, I have a confession, and I want to do it before the wine.
I didn't read it.
I bought it. I opened it. There's a map at the front. I don't trust a book with a map. If I need a map, I'm not relaxing.
I read the last page, so I know she ends up on the boat. With the brother. Not the first brother. The other one. Which, good for her.
But I want to stay. You're my favorite people. Deb brings the good crackers.
So you talk. I'll nod. I'm a wonderful nodder. If anyone asks me, I'll say "the symbolism" and look out the window.
Next month I'll read it. Unless it has a map.
122 words, about 52 sec spoken (estimate)
- SeriocomicAny gender20s to 30sAbout 1 minute
The Freezer Bit
Quinn, 20s, at an open mic, bombing badly with two minutes left, to the nearly empty bar. Quinn wants one real laugh before the light blinks.
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So that's my bit about the dentist. Nothing? Nobody's been to a dentist. Great. Healthy room. Bad teeth.
I have two minutes. The light hasn't even blinked. I could leave. The bartender's already wiping my table.
But I took two buses to get here. I wrote these jokes on my lunch break in a walk in freezer. I work in a walk in freezer. That's not a joke. You're laughing at that? Sir. That's my actual job.
Okay. He's laughing at the freezer.
New plan. The freezer. Eight hours a day. Two coats. I talk to the shrimp. The shrimp are a better crowd than you. They're frozen solid and they still listen.
There it is. There it is.
I'm keeping the freezer. Thank you, you've been forty percent of an audience.
132 words, about 57 sec spoken (estimate)
- DramaticMaleTeenAbout 1 minuteGood for teens
Till Friday
Andre, 16, at his kitchen table at ten at night, on a video call with his English teacher, about the essay he hasn't turned in. He wants an extension, not pity.
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I know it's late. I'm not making an excuse. I'm going to tell you my Tuesday, and you decide.
School till three. Bus to the restaurant. Dishes till seven. Pick up my brothers from my aunt's. Dinner, baths, the little one's reading log, because if I don't sign it, nobody does. My mom gets home at nine forty.
Then it's me and this table.
I don't want you to feel bad. I hate when teachers feel bad. They get soft voices and stop giving real grades.
I want a real grade. I want until Friday, and then I want you to grade it like I had all the time in the world. It's going to be good. I've been writing it in my head at the sink.
Friday. Please. Then be as hard as you want.
136 words, about 58 sec spoken (estimate)
- ComedicFemale20s to 30sAbout 1 minute
Happy Retirement Phil
Gloria, 30s, on the sidewalk, holding a large sheet cake, to a parking officer who is writing her a ticket. She doesn't want to fight the ticket. She wants help with the cake.
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No, no. Please. Look at me. Look at what I'm holding.
This is a cake. It says Happy Retirement Phil. Phil worked at the water department thirty six years. In four minutes they turn off the lights in that building and yell surprise.
I was gone eleven minutes. The bakery had a line. A man in front of me was ordering a cake shaped like his boat. He had photos. He had angles.
Write the ticket. I understand. Phil would respect that. Phil loves a rule.
But could you hold the cake while you write it? My arms are shaking, and if I drop it, there's no Phil. There's just "Retire."
Thank you. Gently. It's a sheet cake. It bends.
120 words, about 51 sec spoken (estimate)
- SeriocomicFemale40s plusAbout 1 minute
Say Next
Bernice, 70s, on a pickleball court between points, to her new doubles partner, who keeps apologizing for every miss. Bernice wants her to stop saying sorry and start playing.
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Stop apologizing. That's four times. Every miss, you say sorry like you stepped on my foot.
Honey, I'm seventy six. I missed three balls this morning, and one was in my own kitchen.
You know why I asked you to be my partner? Not because you're good. You're not good yet. It's because you came back. Two weeks ago Marjorie hit you in the shin with a serve, and you came back the next day with a bruise like a plum and said "again."
That's the whole game. Again.
So no more sorry. When you miss, you say "next." Say it. Louder. There. That's a woman who's going to win.
Now. Marjorie's serving. Aim for her backhand. She doesn't have one.
121 words, about 52 sec spoken (estimate)
- SeriocomicMale20s to 30sAbout 1 minute
Drop Off
Sean, 30s, at daycare on his daughter's first morning, to her new teacher. His daughter has run off happily to play, and Sean can't quite leave.
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Okay. She's in. She didn't even look back. That's good. That's healthy.
Just a few things. She calls water "wa." She calls the dog "wa" too. You'll figure it out from context.
She naps on her left side. On her right, she wakes up angry, like a tiny landlord.
Her bunny is Mister Bunny. Not Bunny. Mister. She knows the difference.
If she cries, call me. I'm ten minutes away. I can be here in six.
She's not crying. She's built a tower. She's knocked it over onto that kid. Okay. That's her mother's side.
I'm going. I'm walking to the car.
Can I watch through the window for one minute? Just one. I won't wave.
116 words, about 50 sec spoken (estimate)
- DramaticAny gender40s plusAbout 1 minute
One More Hour
Morgan, 50s, the jury foreperson, in the deliberation room on a Friday afternoon, to eleven tired jurors ready to vote guilty. Morgan is the only holdout, and wants one more hour.
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Sit down for one minute. I'm not going to make a speech. I'm going to ask for an hour.
I know. It's Friday. Dennis has a flight. Somebody's kid has a recital. I have a dog who's been alone since eight and will tell my rug all about it.
We're eleven to one. The one is me. And I'm not even sure I'm right. That's what bothers me. I'm just not sure, and I don't think you are either. I think you're tired.
So here's the hour. We go through the timeline once more. Ten forty to eleven fifteen. Show me where he is in those thirty five minutes, and I'll vote with you and carry Dennis's bag to the cab.
If you can't, we stay.
That man goes home tonight or he doesn't. One hour. I'll buy the coffee.
140 words, about 1 min spoken (estimate)
- ComedicAny gender20s to 30sAbout 1 minuteGood for teens
Count the Feathers
Jamie, 20s, inside an escape room with eleven minutes left, to four friends who have ignored every idea Jamie has had. Jamie wants them to listen, just once.
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Everyone stop touching things. Stop. Put the lamp down, Derek.
We've been in here forty nine minutes. We've solved one puzzle, and it was the bathroom door, which wasn't locked.
I've said the same thing for half an hour. The painting has four birds. The lock has four numbers. Count the feathers.
Nobody listens to me. I'm a project manager. I get paid to be ignored. I did not pay thirty five dollars to be ignored on a Saturday.
Fine. Keep shaking the bookshelf, Derek. Maybe a key falls out.
Three. Seven. Two. Five.
It opened. It opened. Nobody talk to me. I need a moment.
Okay. Next room. Listen to me this time.
114 words, about 49 sec spoken (estimate)
How to use it
- 1
Filter by gender and age range so the character is close to what you can play now.
- 2
Read three out loud and keep the one where you know exactly what you want from the listener.
- 3
Time it with a phone. If it runs over a minute, cut a sentence from the middle, never the ending.
How long is a one minute monologue?
About 120 to 150 words. Most people speak around 140 words a minute, but nerves speed you up and good pauses slow you down, so a 150 word piece played well lands close to sixty seconds. Every card here shows its word count and an estimate.
Why do auditions ask for short monologues?
Casting usually knows within thirty seconds whether you are right for the room. A short piece shows them a want, a turn and your choices without outstaying the slot. It also leaves time for a redirect, which is often the real audition.
How do I cut a longer monologue down to a minute?
Keep the first line, the turn and the last line. Cut repeated ideas, lists that make the same point twice, and any explanation of backstory the listener already knows. Read the cut version aloud to check it still makes sense to someone who has never seen the play.
Questions writers ask
Are these short monologues free to use?
Yes. They are original pieces, free to perform in auditions, classes and showcases.
What if the audition says up to two minutes?
A strong one minute piece is still a good choice. If you want more time, see the audition monologues page for pieces of up to 175 words.
Can I change a name or a pronoun?
Yes. Change names, pronouns or small details so the piece fits you.
How do I make a monologue shorter for an audition?
Keep the setup line, the moment the character asks for what they want, and the turn at the end. Cut repeated points and any lines that explain the backstory. Time it out loud after every cut.