Algernon Monologue

For anyone who doesn’t know me, I’m Algernon, actually never mind that, as I do believe that everyone here today knows me, as Bunbury kept to himself a lot and didn’t really have anyone else. So this honor is bestowed unto me to say a few words in memory and to enlighten all of you on what kind of man my dear friend Bunbury was. (lady Bracknell:) “Hurry up Algernon I have luncheon at 3 and it would be a most terrible thing to miss it” (Algernon:) Yes, rather.

The rain had just stopped pouring, and we had all gathered in a park nearby, as a makeshift memorial for Johnny. It wasn’t really a funeral, we didn’t have the budget for that, and it wasn’t like his parents cared enough to give him a proper goodbye.

Frances Liberman Ms. Kim IBH Lang and Lit January 15th 2015 Dysart’s Character and Dream In Peter Shaffer’s play, Equus, one of the main characters is a psychiatrist named Martin Dysart who specializes with adolescents. The play begins with a seventeen-year-old boy named Alan Strang and a horse named Nugget. Alan is showing great affection towards the horse. Suddenly, a man in his forties is shown holding a cigarette.

I gaze up at the golden moon. It is rare to see a night like this. Perhaps I should continue moving. It would be foolish for me to stop here.

I sat there with Darry and Two-Bit and most of the rest of the guys. We all watched TV. We didn’t say anything for the most part, but we all knew what we were all thinking about: Johnny and Dally. There was a loud smashing sound from Soda and mine’s room. I was the only one to get up. The others were too zoned out on the TV and inside of their thoughts. I slowly walked over to the room with the door closed. “Soda?” I called. The others only turned after they heard me. This couldn’t happen to me again. Not again.

…What Daisy? No, a bad lie got me out in the final, weren’t you watching?

I was a productive woman, and I wanted people to see it in me. I wanted them to see it in the way I walked. I wanted them to see it in the way I talked. I wanted them to see it in the way I worked late every night to make my patients, and the world, a healthier, better place. Most importantly, though, my productivity was expressed in the way that I raised my boy. I wanted Eugene to be as perfect as I was, and I worked my hardest to keep all distractions from him. Still, he always managed to slide his face into the pages of his books every chance he got. I didn’t see the point in it. He had the top marks out of everyone in his class, so what was the point in reading books that didn’t improve his grades? I didn’t

I pushed the arm in front of me even deeper into the guy’s throat. It was much harder than it had been the first time and I felt his Adam's apple push into my skin.

This is Beechwood 2-0828. It’s all been very sudden. He was killed just six days ago in an automobile accident on the Brooklyn Bridge. The call operator interrupt saying my three minutes was up. And so, I am sitting here in this deserted camp in Gallup, New Mexico. I am trying to get a hold of myself so I won’t go mad. I have to go home to mother and tell her i’m not dead. So I got in the car and started driving as fast I could to her house. Then suddenly I saw the old man in the middle of the road but i kept driving until I was to my mothers house. I stopped only four times to eat and sleep that's all I had to see her and tell her i'm not dead. During my trip back home I would see the man with fresh raindrops on this raincoat every twenty miles. I was

Wolfsheim, a man over embellished by rings and lavish attire. He leans forward to address a young wide eyed Gatsby. Gatsby leans in and follows Woldsheim’s story of his tough childhood in Manhattan. Wolfsheim blight was being the son of an abusive business man and that he knew nothing better than a life of physical and emotional abuse.

“What do you think of it, Mr. Jennison?” An about fifty-year-old neighbor, Mr. Lawrence, spoke to me as he looked around the suddenly empty storage room.

Grass tickles my bare feet, and the sultry night air caresses my skin as I stand facing the forest. With the moon full and glistening over the dew covered greenery, I am enraptured. The gentle breeze wraps around me like a lovers embrace and I am lost to my surroundings. The nights are beginning to cool with the new season and are a welcomed relief to the waning summer heat.

At a young age I became acquainted with life's greatest pain. Loss. My parents, the Heroes of Alrudia, went off on a mission. It wasn't that difficult a task for Luiknights of their grade and they had two additional teams to go with them. But, they never came back. I remember that day. I opened the door and came face to face with a grief stricken man. The fact that I recognized the man was a bad sign. I knew immediately that something was wrong. It was the hardest I've cried in my entire life. I thought the grief would last only a short time but it stuck with me. It devastated Jas. Then and there I knew I had to be strong. I had to be strong for her. I thought that if I hid my agony, buried it deep within myself, that I could move on. Oh how wrong I

and me Sally, my sister said. Do you know him ,I asked. No, what else could I say he has a gun.

We ran as fast as we could to the town and told the tale. People were amazed at what we said and didn’t quite believe it. So they came with us to see if it was possible. It was. The people saw the possessed men, well, not possessed. The 12 men and the Jew gave them some clothes and where having a pleasant conversation in the graveyard. The people were terrified. They were even more scared when they saw the drowned pigs. The pigs now had disgusting purple veins all over their bodies, up to their eyes, and down to their tales. I had to look away as I saw one of the pig's tongue fall out. Trust me, you don't want me to describe that. All the towns people look away and look at the heroic Jew that did this. I wasn't even afraid of losing my job. I was