Monologue: Independence by Aaron McCarthy Apr25

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Monologue: Independence by Aaron McCarthy

I sat in the restaurant pursing my lips, bull-dog like, while I stared at the slim blonde at the counter, running her fingers through her hair while talking to a seventeen-year-old boy. To my left a brunette was gazing around, fiddling with her ring, as though wondering where her husband was now. As I thought this I looked at my watch. It was turned the wrong way round again; there was something that I had to remember. Scratching my nose I continued to take in my surroundings: there was an old man drumming his fingers along the steamy mug of tea. It was then that I realised that no one here was in pairs – we were all loners: single fish in a vast pond.