The Replica

A woman is sorrowful at the realization that her husband no longer desires her.





CASEY

No. Its more than just the sex. You try to avoid being home to avoid me. And when you are at home you barely look at me, barely talk to me, let alone touch me. I spent all day pampering myself so I can look good, look like her. FOR YOU.


Beat.


CASEY

I know, aside from the near perfect physical resemblance I’m not her. I’ll never be her. I try to be her. Mimic the way she talks, the way she walks, the way you make her feel. I can recall the first time you met her, describe in detail every intimate date the two of you shared, tell you how she felt when the two of you made love and how often you did.


Beat


CASEY

Look upon you in the same way she did. And with the same eyes.


Beat.


CASEY

Touch you how she touched you. The way you like her to touch you.


Beat.


CASEY (CONT'D)

...even kiss you with the same passion and with the same lips.


Her face apathetic.


CASEY

Its because I can’t give you a baby.


Beat.


CASEY (CONT'D) Its the one thing she promised you on your wedding day. Besides to

always love you. She put it in her vows that afternoon, then consecrated it later that evening when you two made love.


Beat


CASEY (CONT'D)

With my arrival, You’d forgotten about it for awhile, allowed yourself to get swept up in me. A second chance to relive what you shared with her. Forced satisfaction of muddled ignorance,

the perfect shape and fit of artificial love created to last a lifetime. But then your sister got

pregnant. Eventually gave birth to a beautiful baby boy. The first time you held him in your glance, the looks you used to give me stopped. The first time you held him in your arms, the conversations we shared were ended and the touches you’d give me that led to sex were no longer initiated. Instantly I became a soulless reminder, artificial thoughts inside a perfect holly shell.


Beat.


CASEY (CONT'D)

Your sisters’ pregnancy took you away from the dream you were living and reminded you of what I really am, Replicated Art. And like art, I can imitate life but I can never produce it.


To download scripted version click this link.


Written by Darion Taylor

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