Great for older male actors, this 2-3 minute monologue reflects on the future of a man who's been diagnosed with cancer.
Scientists predict that the stars will be in unrecognizable constellations 100,000 years from now due to changes in the celestial sphere. People probably won't notice; they'll all be extinct from a super-volcano eruption that will occur around the same time.
By the year 2100 80% of the rain forests will be gone due to deforestation and also there will likely be a manned mission to Saturn.
By 2050 the average fish's body size will be a quarter of what it is today and we'll have widespread automobiles that can drive and park themselves.
By 2030 rhinos will be extinct, the Titanic will be done decomposing at the bottom of the ocean, and someone will have perfected human androids with functioning artificial intelligence.
By 2025 bioterrorism will be at a peak and we'll be using 3D printers to create human organs for transplants and surgeries.
By 2020 there will be 30,000 drones over American soil and everyone will be eating genetically-altered super bananas.
By 2016 the cancer will have spread throughout my body and I'll die doped up and coughing.
In six months I'll tell you that I think the treatment's working and the fatigue isn't that bad, but I'll be lying and you'll know that.
Next month I'll vow to fight this thing and go with you to the clinic. I'll feel the sweat on your palm when they tell me it's inoperable.
A week from now I'll tell you what I already know.
I don't know what I'll do tonight. I think I'll stay in. I hope I find you reading in bed, and that you'll push your glasses up into your hair and smile at me. I'm going to hold your hand, and go outside, and look up at the stars.