Great as an audition piece for a young male actor, this 1-2 minute dramatic monologue is about language and love.
EXT: A FIELD
Ben and Jake, newly a couple, are walking through the field as it starts to rain.
I love the smell of first rain, don't you? Especially in a dusty field like this. Did you know someone made up a word for that? They call it petrichor. The definition is actually quite scientific, and there's a lot of talk about plant oils that get exuded when it's dry and then it rains and et cetera. But it's such a beautiful sensation-the scent of fat, wet drops stirring up puffs of dust or spattering warm asphalt-that they had to give it a romantic name. Petri: stone, and ichor: blood of the gods. From the Greek.
I'm sorry, Jake. I talk too much when I'm nervous. And I know I can be pedantic as hell. I just so like walking in this storm with you. Holding your hand feels like that-like water falling on parched earth that's never felt the rain.
I like the idea that there are still things out there-experiences and sensations that everyone recognizes and knows-but that haven't been given a name yet. "Petrichor" wasn't even made up until 1964. It makes me think of this feeling that I guess was always inside me, and it never had a name before you came along. Probably everyone redefines the term love, every time it happens.