Dramatic Monologue

The smooth taste of the wood smothered my lips as I echoed a song throughout my wooden flute. The city streets around me were dirty and loud, but I could only hear my flute above the rustle and bustle. I played sweet mishmashes of medleys, getting lost in the gentle noise, when suddenly I noticed someone, or rather something watching my performance. A small kitten was sitting in front of me attentatively watching with its amber eyes fixated on the flute I held. I paused my playing and looked at the cat puzzled. This strange phenomenon perplexed me for why would a cat of all things want to hear a poor boy play music. Suddenly the cat jumped onto the step beside me gently brushing my flute with it’s fluffy, noir black tail. The same amber eyes fixated on the flute then turned and looked straight into mine as if to say, “Keep going.” I put the

The cat was unmoving, as if it was an audience member at a famous opera. Engrossed in me, in my performance. I kept going pouring my heart and soul into it all, when I noticed another audience member had sucked me out of this world of music. A man on a motorcycle had stopped by the side of the road, right beside me without saying a word. He wore an obviously expensive, slick black helmet, and a visor that blocked out all of his face, so you couldn’t see it. “Boy,” he said, “what is that you are playing?” My eyes trailed to the floor suddenly aware of my dirty mud filled clothes, and greasy hair in poor condition. I wished in my mind that he would just leave. The man waited for my answer and when he noticed I wasn’t going to say anything he stopped thought for a moment then spoke again, “It has a very nice sound. Whatever it is you were playing. I would like to hear you play it some more if you don’t mind.” I looked at him flabbergasted and wondered why he would stop here, in this part of town just to hear a