*Photo by Nicole Lang
We love the West Linn High School Theater Department! While they are, obviously, spectacular performers, many of them are also talented writers. Every year, Acting II students workshop their skills and create original monologues that they eventually perform for their class. This year we are hoping to post several monologues, and we are starting off strong with A Speck Among the Wheatfields by WLHS senior Dylan Leebrick! When asked what inspired his piece, he said he “just wanted to portray a character struggling through the classic human dilemma of “why are we here” and “what’s the point of it all if we’re just gonna die anyway?”
A Speck Among the Wheatfields
by Dylan Leebrick
A speck among the wheatfields. That is me. That is you. In the great library of history, I am a mere page number in one chapter, in one book, on one shelf, in the entire library. The joys, the triumphs, the first kisses, the hatred, the anger, the broken hearts; all will be lost, all forgotten. Death is destruction, it is the end, there is nothing more.
It was a beautiful evening. Every family in our entire neighborhood came. True neighbors. The kind of place where the children of one were the children of all.
Everything was steaming and hot. A bounty of food, no family underperformed. All ensuring that they prepared their finest dishes.
Afterwards there was music and dancing. Our stomachs full, we danced like pregnant penguins, waddling about while some neighbors with musical skills soothed us with their playing.
The moon overthrew the sun. The coming darkness brought with it the collection of empty dishes, the kissing and hugging of many goodbyes and sent me to my bedroom that I might watch their cars as they went away from the setting sun, down our long gravel road, until they were a mere speck among the wheatfields. And those specks headed East. But they did not know that all directions lead west, to the place where the sun never rises. To death! (Pause) They say I’m crazy, but I’m just curious why… why we live? Is it for the people, the food, the music, or the dancing that will all be forgotten? What’s the point? You tell me.