INT. THE LIGHTSCOME ON TO REVEAL AN ELDERLY WOMAN SITTING AT A SMALL TABLE FACING THEAUDIENCE. SHE IS DRESSED IN THE TRADITIONAL GARB OF A CARNIVAL FORTUNETELLER. ADECK OF TAROT CARDS IS OFF TO HER SIDE, WRAPPED IN SILK OR FINE LINEN. A BRANDYFLASK SITS OFF TO THE OTHER SIDE.

Hello, hello!Please come inside. Sit down there across the table from me.

SHE MOTIONS TO ANON-EXISTENT CHAIR IN FRONT OF THE TABLE

“My, my. What apretty one you are!

“No, no, mydear. Don’t be concerned over a silly old lady like me. Sit! Sit!

“So, you want toknow the future? Maybe the past? Yes?

“Well, of course,you already know the past! At least you think you do, but my cards have a wayof helping you remember it.

“Ignore thenoises of the carnival outside. Here it is just you and me.

“Now, I willunwrap the cards, and we shall begin.

SHE UNWRAPS THECARDS AND PUTS THEM IN FRONT OF HER

“Yes, that’snatural silk they are wrapped in. I’m not some carnival hack, not Madame . Ihave dealt these cards for over seventy years.

“What? Why,thank you. No, my child, I don’t look ninety years old, do I?

“Now, take thecards and just shuffle them the best you can. Any way is acceptable. The cardshave to taste you.

“Yes, that doessound unpleasant, does it not? Let’s say they must know you, but listen to meprattle on.

“Very good. Yes,the cards do feel oddly warm. Ah! They are ready.

THEFORTUNETELLER TAKES THE CARDS AND LAYS THEM OUT AS DESCRIBED IN THE MONOLOGUE.

“Let me lay themout before you facedown. Four in the first row, three in the second, and one inthe third row: the past, the present, and the future.

“Now let us lookat the past, maybe a past you have forgotten?

“Oh, look! It isthe Spring Maid in Flowers!

“What? You don’tremember the Spring Maid in Flowers being in the Tarot? Why, of course not.These are my cards. My specialcards.

“Oh, look howyoung and pretty she is! How innocent! How she revels in the dawn of each newday. Ah, how it makes me remember my own childhood, but now we may not be asinnocent? What a world of sorrow we live in.

“Here is theSummer Meadow, but it is inverted. Oh, the pretty little one is not living in avery nice place. How distressing. She had all that purity, but she lives amidstpeople and places that are not so uncorrupted. Let’s look at the next card.

“The Fiends ofthe Heart. Oh, this is dreadful. Look at the picture. Look how the childcringes from the beasts that crowd around here, the monsters that have beensown into her heart by those who were monsters themselves.

“No, child, youdo not need to shy away. There is no need to cover your eyes. It is just apicture, see? It is just ink on a pasteboard.

“Let’s move onto the next. This may be a Cinderella story, yes?

“Ah! TheQuesting Youth!

“Now, now, howcan the woman in the picture look like you? Her back is turned to us. How doyou know what you look like from behind?

“Yet, she islooking for something. She is searching, but what is she questing for?

“The next card!

“Oh! TheBlessing, inverted. Oh! Well, we need not talk of this one at this time. Let uslook to the present, shall we? Let us do so. Quickly.

“The LoversSlain. Oh. Oh. One moment, dearest. Yes, my hands do tremble so. Ignore them. Iam an old woman.

“Let me havethat flask there. The brandy inside will steady my hands.

SHE TAKES THEBRANDY FLASK IN TREMBLING HANDS AND TAKES A SIP.

“You arecorrect. The slain lovers are all men, and there they lay, the poor dears, inone large carrion pile. They dared to love somebody. Let’s see who that couldhave been.

“Ah, thePuppeteer!

“Yes, her eyesare not kind, are they? They have no love or tenderness within theirdepths.  Her marionettes lie limp on their strings. Used and now useless.

“Please do notlook at me that way. See, now? There are just two cards left.

“The VengefulDead. Look how they reach out from the pasteboard!

“Please, mydear. Please put the knife away. Please. Look! There is just one more card. Youhave to admit the cards have power, don’t they?

“This last cardis your future. Just let me flip it over.

“It is blank!

“Nothing but aneternity of whiteness, but look! Something takes shape within the card itself.

“But my dear,where have you gone? Do you not want to see this card? The woman trapped withinlooks just like you.

THEFORTUNETELLER TAKES A LONG GLANCE AT THE CARD

“I shall callthis card A Broken Doll in Hell.”

THE STAGE LIGHTSGO OUT

Written permission must be given for this monologue to be performed with the following conditions:

1. I must be given credit as the playwright.

2. Admission may not be charged unless the organization is a registered nonprofit or educational institution.

3. A video of the performance must be sent to me either through YouTube or another video hosting service.