In this female dramatic monologue, MRS.LÉVÊQUE talks to a close friend’s daughter about the unhappy life she has had with her husband.
MRS.LÉVÊQUE: Oh I just can’t stand to look at him. The mere thought of it gives me goosebumps. To think I’ve been married to that man for thirty-five years makes me feel diseased. I should have listened to my mother, years ago, when she warned me he was a pathetic skinny worm. She was right!
There was never any love…well, once…perhaps…once, in the beginning. The day we met. (she sighs) Yes, well, to be young and ignorant. I first took notice of the bastard when he was coming off the boat. He was dressed in all white, with his sleeves rolled up and a handsome tan. Tall, I was struck by his presence, naturally. Piercing blue eyes and thick golden hair..he sort of reminded me of Ernest Hemingway in a way…he had the quality of a man’s man. First thing he uttered to me was a warm hello with a grin and his voice was just as magnetic as his presence. I must admit.
I was young, naive. I didn’t know any better in those days. I truly was a clean slate. Had no life experience, pure innocence. Not like I am now. Now, I give new meaning to the word, bitch. What else do I have? It’s what he made me become. Yes, once the dream was shattered by his hand, real life cracked open and showed itself to me…I wasn’t a virgin any longer.
We haven’t spoke one single word to one another in three whole months. Believe that? Ninety days today. It’s become a competition of sorts. A pride of wills. Like a staring contest you play as a child. I do not intend to lose this battle. I will not be the first to speak to him. Not this time out, if it’s the last thing I do. Bastard. That horrible bastard.