ALBANY'S BACKYARD - DUSK
ALBANY is sitting outside admiring the inconsistency of the clouds, and the reliability of the sun,
tan lines from a content summer, and an annual cold to welcome the new season.
NARRATOR
she has a thousand and three thoughts in her brain,
and her fingertips are ready to type, but end up waiting longer than they wanted to.
her head hurts from the week
and seems to hurt even more when she realizes
tomorrow is called monday.
In her brain, she hears her teacher ask, "what makes you human?"
but that question is too difficult for her, so
she changes it to: "prove you're not a robot"
ALBANY
i love things, i hate things
i want things, i need things
i feel things
NARRATOR
her face turns red when she's embarrassed, her heart beats a little faster when he leans in for a kiss, and she gets chills every time she hears Wait by M83.
then her fingers start typing...
ALBANY
What Makes Me Human by albany grey
What Makes Me Human by albany grey
THIS MAY POSSIBLY BE THE GREATEST PIECE OF WRITING THAT HAS EVER BEEN POSTED
ReplyDelete^^^I AGREE
ReplyDeleteI seriously want to see how the rest of this play plays out
"he/he/he/she. Too many"
ReplyDeletemmm
Beautifully written. Both aesthetically and poetically.
ReplyDeleteI can't even start to imagine how you came up with all this. This is so well done.
ReplyDelete