Instant Monologues
Clean Instant Monologue


CLEAN

INT: THE KITCHEN IN RICHARD AND SARAH'S HOUSE.

Sarah is obsessively cleaning her house.

SARAH

(Scrubbing at a counter with a particularly stubborn stain.)

I have tried everything on this stupid stain and nothing gets it out. Richard is going to be home soon and as it is I'm not going to have time to shower.

(Looks at her watch.)

Crap, it's already six? He should be home by now. And I look like hell.

(Stares at her watch a moment longer, worry creasing her brow. Then she shakes
her head and leans in frustration over the counter, back to the stain.)

Stone counters are absorbent as hell and if you don't get to a stain immediately it can set and you'll have to have a red ring there for the rest of your life.

(Checking the materials she's tried so far.)

Dry flour… paper towels… detergent… bleach… nothing works.

(Throws down the rag she's currently using and stares at the stain.)

It would certainly help if I knew what caused the stain. Then I could look up how to get it out. I asked Richard, but he said he didn't know. It looks kind of like a red wine stain. But he doesn't drink red wine. Neither do I.

(Picks the rag up and goes back to vigorous scrubbing.)

Maybe it's raspberry juice. I eat a lot of raspberries in the summer and that stains everything. I'm not even sure how long this stain has been here. Getting this house clean is so demanding. There's filth in places you wouldn't believe. I find hair everywhere. Yesterday Richard was at work until nine so I took the time to snake the bathtub drain and I was horrified by what I found in there. Old soap scum and wet, moldy crud, but mostly the hair. There was so much of it, just clods of hair. And not just mine and Richard's, but long red hair, wads of it practically. I seem to find hair everywhere. I've cleaned it out from behind the stove, under the fridge, and between the couch cushions.

(Looks around the room, exhausted.)

I understand what my mother meant, now, when she said that it's all just never-ending. If I could just get this place really clean, maybe I wouldn't feel so restless like this all the time.

(Looks at her watch again. Looks toward the front door. Goes back to scrubbing.)






Copyright © 2014-2019 by Savetz Publishing, Inc. Contact us. Privacy Policy. All the world's a stage.