Hello, my name is Taylor Cashion and I'll be doing a monologue from A Streetcar Named
Desire by Tennessee Williams. Thank you! I I I took the blows in my face and on my body. All those deaths. The long parade to the
graveyard. Father, mother, Margaret that dreadful way. So big with it it couldn't be put
in a coffin. But had to be burned like rubbish! You just came home in time for the funerals,
Stella. And funerals are pretty compared to deaths. Funerals are quiet. Deaths, not always.
Somet
imes their breathing is hoarse, sometimes it rattles, and sometimes they even cry out to you,
"Don't let me go". Even the old sometimes say, "Don't let me go" as if you were able to stop
them. But funerals are quiet with pretty flowers. An oh, what gorgeous boxes they pack them away
in. Unless you were there at the bed when they cried out, "Hold me" you'd never suspect there was
the struggle for breath and bleeding. You didn't dream but I saw saw saw! And now you sit there
telling me with y
our eyes that I let the place go. How in the hell do you think all
that sickness and dying was paid for?
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