[Lights up on a single writer behind a desk. He scratches his head with his pencil and scribbles on his pad of paper. He looks up and starts as he notices the audience.]
WRITER:
Oh, hello. Did my wife let you in? Eh, I guess that's not really pertinent. I don't mean to be rude, but, do you mind? I'm trying to write. You see, I started on something that I thought I loved. Then I realized that I really did love it, but only when it was in my head. It's hard you know, to make things come to life. In your head it's easy to make them dance, and sing in a realistic fashion. You can make them sound the way you want, move the way you want, even chew gum the way you want. But, it seems that every time I create someone I can't bring myself to give them a tragic life.....I wish our creator was like that.
[Long pause and the writer goes back to writing. Lights fade.]
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