Aitches, Mongolian Beef

This is a short play that I wrote a while ago I thought since I hadn't posted a short story that this would be cool. Enjoy!

H. S. Halsey Mongolian Beef


Wendy: a woman in her late 20’s

Eric: a confident strong well groomed well-built handsome man 38 years old

Charley: a slightly pudgy 28 year old

Bret: a pretty 24 year old

Alex: handsome 30-year-old man.

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Aitches, Charleston Sunday

Geoffry brushed his teeth. He brushed them slowly and deliberately trying to hold on to one action so that he wouldn't vomit. His mind was a dull throb barley having been able to force his feet into his Homer Simpson head slippers. He spat into the sink and took a palm fool of water splashing his face with it. His bathrobe loosely tide he stumbled into the kitchen. 'Bacon?' he thought as he held onto the door frame.
"It;s your turn to take the trash out." Geoffry's room mate chirped. Henrietta, had been named after was four eight but perpetually pranced on her tiptoes. At times she was painfully cheerful.
"What's for breakfast, Hen?" She just kept dancing around the kitchen stirring eggs and putting toast in the toaster oven. "What? Did I do something last night?" Instead of responding Henrietta stopped and just looked at Geoffry. He thought what she must see. His disheveled hair and suntanned skin. If only she were a little taller and maybe not such big hips but then again-
"Geoffers!" Came a muffled yawn from his bedroom behind him. Henrietta smirked and resumed her breakfast. Geoffry turned and saw a girl curled up in his bed she seemed to be just starting to realize that she had a hangover.
"Hen, who is that?" Geoffry breathed between his teeth. "Hen, come on I seriously had no idea when I came in here."

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Aitches, Dead Men's Shoes

I sit on my bed and try to zone out. In the summer I tend to lose track of days. In this new town there is not a whole lot to do but read. Coming home from boarding school has only made things more confusing. I hate it there but I hate it even more when I come home. Now there is no home, we are in a new house entirely. Even though school was hell at least there was something to do everyday. There were people around, not that I had any friends, except Joey. The sun hits my eyes and I put on my sunglasses. I sit in my new room and try not to think. The movers are lifting and shouting outside. As they move all of my mothers furniture into the house. I here them grunting as they lift another antique but the music is as loud as it will go. Something taps my shoe and I try to ignore it. I focus my mind deep inside, I try to escape. the tapping continues, it is persistent. Slowly I take off my glasses and peer through the glare streaming in through my shadeless windows. My mother is mouthing something and yanking at invisible headphones. I turn off the music,
"What?"
"Sweety, the movers need to get in here."
She glares at me but her mind is already unfocused. She has moved on and past me, im crossed off the list and now she looks at the window. Her better homes and gardens mind probably thinking what pattern would best suit my room when I move out in the fall. I remove myself from the bed and pass the movers as they grapple with an ancient armoire that holds my cloths.
"Careful."

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