Here are my monologues:

You crawl and invade me and leave me hollow. You’ve pulled me inside-out, stripped me of what has been a part of me since… I can’t even remember now. Never a thought for me. Never a gesture. Never a gift in return for what you have taken. And now… now your hatred has spilled over and it has infected your own. You crawl from me to wrap hands around each other’s necks; citing, “cruel and inhumane treatment!” To me, all human treatment is cruel. Now you strip each other and pull your own insides out. Now you are hollow. And it makes me happy. Empty but happy. You lie on top of me stripped of what has been with you longer than you can remember. Days pass, and your still silent. Then, they dig into me again and put you here with me to sleep; forever. Perhaps, this is your gift – in return for what you have taken from me.

-The earth to the humans two days after the massacre.

It was a long time ago now. But I remember them growing every day as the clanging of their machines grew. Soon, the mountainside shivered with their dynamite. I watched with my mother and my father as a mine became a village and a village became a town. But that is how things go. Then, one day the mountain stopped its shivering and the people left their town. That’s when rumor began to spread, as if it were gospel, that there were blood to be spilt. I watched on the hilltop each day; close enough to hear and see, yet far enough too. I watched the set up their tents that shone in the sun like snowy peaks. Early, one morning came the distant “crack!” like a firework. It was followed by many more. We knew it had started. Plumes of rifle smoke drifted in the breeze followed later by the sound it had made. Faint voices traveled too, but were swallowed by the war. As the sun dimmed on the peaks of the tents, a new light came from within. Fire spread through the colony and burned throughout the night. By morning, there was nothing but charred wooden stakes like ribs on a carcass. We knew it was over.

-Pueblo Woman speaking to a researcher seventy-two years after the incident.

You should have been there! Atop Water Tank Hill it seemed I could see forever. Straight lines! – it was the way I think… and from here, everything was a straight line. As the sun rose, it warmed me. I felt myself expanding. When you’re made into something for a specific purpose anything else… well, is not that purpose. Anticipation can get even the best of them! Some can be so overwhelmed by the moment, they freeze up! Not me. Not today. I don’t really remember much before, but after… nothing but the purest explosion! True was my aim as I launched into the camp. Split air! Torn matter! Never stopping till I was shrapnel. I don’t remember hitting any lamp, but I remember the fire. I had done that. I felt the squeeze and I had done that!

-The Machine Gun recounting to unspent ammo shortly after the incident.

-Brian