Geoffreys Monlogue

Geoffrey is a medium height man with a slightly aged face. He is sat in an armchair next to the fireplace, his hands are on his lap. It is a late Sunday evening and the room is merely lit by a small light in the far corner.

Another week. Another service. I think this one went OK, (laughs coldly) well that's what Susan said, as if i didn't see her creep through the slightly ajar door with only ten minutes left of the hour long service with hair like she'd rushed out of bed and forgotten to brush it and her lips pursed as though she had too many things on her mind. I would like to know what it was that bothered her so much. I couldn't be bring myself to question her though. I knew she felt like she was forgotten at church, like a tree in a forest, she blended into the background. She fits the 'vicars wife' look and she knows that, does she despise that? I wouldn't know. We barely talk now. Small chat now and again "cup of tea?" "have you shut the window?" you know, that chat... the kind where you speak just to break silence or only when actually necessary. Things haven't been the same as they used to.

(Takes a sip of hot beverage before placing it back on the coffee table next to the armchair) I can see Susan's health deteriorating, it's hard to watch. The bags under her eyes are growing and her cheekbones are becoming more pronounced. Her skin's transparent. But then, what can I do? when it comes to dinner she sits there her face blank, moving the food around the plate as though she is creating some depressing abstract art more than actually eating it. We sit opposite each other but the dinner is anything and everything but romantic. An awkward silence clouds the dining room to the point where the mist is so thick I have to leave the room and 'make a drink' or 'pop to the loo.' 

I mean, there is a little discussion, we're not prisoners in our own home. But the chat isn't free flowing, it's cut and chopped as though she's scared of what will come out her mouth if she talks too much. 

(Geoffrey stands up and slowly walks over to the lamp) Well I better be off to bed, I'll once again ask God to help Susan with whatever issue that is succumbing her to sadness. Hopefully tomorrow will bring more light than darkness, right now I am in a tunnel and I cannot see the end, but maybe soon. Maybe. I should be the one sorting this out. I can't rely on God to save whatever is left of this deteriorating relationship. I need to ask her. Tomorrow. Tomorrow I shall ask her. (Geoffrey reaches down to the power source of the lamp and switches it off, the whole stage falls to darkness)