CONTEXT: This monologue is an excerpt from a one-act comedy called "Symbolism." It is written by Wade Bradford. During this scene, Mr. and Mrs. Craig (a middle-class couple in their late 30s or early 40s) are running a garage sale. Not a single customer has arrived, and they are starting to get irritated with each other. Mrs. Craig notices that her husband left soggy Fig Newtons in the ice chest. She decides that Mr. Craig's actions are deeply symbolic. During this monologue, she finds other symbolic objects and actions as she walks from one garage sale item to the next.
MRS. CRAIG: I'll tell you what happened. I woke up earlier than you. I got out the ice chest. I made sandwiches. I washed the rhubarb I had been hiding at the bottom of the fridge as a surprise. And I packed all of those other snacks including your precious fig cookies which I lovingly placed into the ice chest. You ate half of the fig newtons, without offering me a single one. Then, three hours later, when the ice melted, and you noticed them floating there, getting soggy, you just left them there. Do you rescue the Fig Newtons? Do you even tell me what's wrong? No. You just let the Fig Newtons soak. Water-logged and bloated. Left it for me to clean up. And this is a metaphor; this sums up our marriage entirely. You what, Craig? Those Fig Newtons -- that's us. That's our relationship. Now look at this. This pin-wheel you've been keeping in our hope chest, for how long? I know - your prize possession from second grade. The got it the day you rode on the fire truck in the forth of July parade. It's a symbol of your youth. And yes, three years ago I stepped on it. And I broke it in two. By accident. And I put a band-aid on it as a symbol of my love for you. But you don't care. You treat me like this Rubik's Cube with all the stickers torn off. Solid black, so that no matter where I turn or how I arrange myself, I don't even know if I've solved the puzzle. Look at these broken habit trails. These stinky disconnected hamster tubes. This is my soul. I've lost my way, and even if I spent the time putting the pieces back together, it will still smell like hamster urine, and it would still lead to an empty room with a little wheel that spins around to nowhere. Why are you laughing at me?!
