She Can't Half Talk
She Can’t Half Talk is a brand new piece of writing by Sally MacAlister. The six-part monologue show explores the confines, constraints and confusions surrounding gender, sexuality, age and love in the modern world. The extract below is from the very first monologue within the play, entitled The Foetus; the Foetus is scared, confused, and above all, amazed by her wonderful mother and the world she is about to enter. In this final part of the monologue, the Foetus explains her own stance on abortion. You can catch this monologue, and five others, entitled The Camera Girl, The Cougar, The Drag Queen, The Actor and the Victim at the Edinburgh Fringe Festival, 17th-25th August.
I was thinking, about this whole "foetus" thing: I wouldn't have minded. [Pause]I wouldn't have minded if this never happened. If, when my mum was crying all those months ago, she had decided she was crying me goodbye, it would have been fine. I've had a lot of thinking time in here, so hear me out. I know I talk the talk, but what it comes down to is the fact that right now, I'm a floating bit of what could happen, you know? Lots of maybes tied together with an umbilical chord. I hear all these things mum does and says and I think she's amazing but, we've never actually chatted face to face. And the way I see it, my mum is everything. And I can only be real if she's looked me in the eye and told me so. So no, I don't think I'd mind at all if my mum decided I was never to exist. If the tables were turned and she was on the inside of me, I would never want her to be angry at me. And I know she wouldn't be. So all I can do is return the favour.
Okay, we've starved her of her mum-ercise long enough. I better give her the all clear. She better get on with it, she's a busy lady so lord knows what she's got on after this. Actually, I think I heard something about a dinner with Diana and her gecko, joy of joys. Can't wait. If I do somehow retain my ability to speak, the first thing I do will be to ask the doctor what a gecko is, mark my words. Do you think birth will hurt? Meh, nah. I bet I'll just slip right out. As for you lot, maybe I'll see you then? We could go to a lecture, or maybe mum-ercise together- Oh! Oh, you could meet my mum! You would love her really, she's just the best. I mean, I don't think she'd let you live inside of her for nine months like she did with me but, she'll definitely show you a good time.
She'll be alright, won't she? On her own? Ah, I don't know. No one does. I guess my mum's future is in some ways like mine, now. Just a lot of maybes floating in the air, all tied up with one long umbilical chord. It's pulling us both down to earth. I can feel her getting tense again, she wants to move. We best let her. I think that's the worst thing about this foetus thing; She's definitely a mover, and I know that I am often, for lack of a better word, deadweight. But, I hold on tight, and don't make any sudden movements, like this. Then, she can fly with me. I just have to let her know. I'm ready.
Please catch previews of She Can't Half Talk in London (25-26th July) and Edinburgh (31st July-1st August), or during their run in Fringe (17th-25th August) via the ticket links below: