wish.

my new play, wish., opened friday.
one audience member described it as "like David Lynch, but with a singing hamster."
i'll take it.


david bellis-squires and zero feeney

for more information on the creation of wish., you could certainly check out this journal.
this play also includes a scene based on the second entry of this blog. or rather inspired by...

the play runs through October 18. i'm sure no one will find out about it from here, but if you do, come see it!

a feeling of depth

the sun is just about down. most of my side of the road is in the shadow of the wheat. which is about waist high. i’m looking at the compacted small stones that make up the road. my feet are on the white line on the side of the road. i’m balancing on a line of paint on the side of the road. i look at the stones massed together as pavement. after awhile, there’s a feeling of depth, from just looking.
some movement catches my eye. from here, it looks like movement between the entirely inseparable first and second layers of stone. a trick of compactness, light, time and my eyes adding information to something that is purely a solid simple surface.
cement.
pavement.
a red ant.
crawling across, dashing back and forth towards the center of the road. to the slightly raised yellow line in the center of the road. the red ant waddles to the center line, just above where the shadow cuts off. the sun illuminates his body translucent.
the ant glows.
the yellow line glows beneath it.
the red ant startles a slight fly perched there.

the ant halts momentarily and then turns and wanders back between the second and first layers of pavement.

when the next car passes, i lose the ant.

the bathroom at the parent office

someone's leaving as i'm walking in. 'excuse me' i mutter. he nods and continues on. the bathroom looks empty now. i approach the closest urinal.
after a moment, an alarm goes off. like someone's watch.
two beeps. and then silence.
and then two beeps again. and again silence.
and then two more beeps.
when i go to wash my hands, i think, i'll see a watch left by a sink. i can picture it. gold, hands, no numbers (instead solitary dashes), the expanding wristband (the kind that pinched my skin when i'd try on my dad's. that was some time ago).
i walk away from the urinal, which automatically flushes. naturally.
no watch on the counter.
empty counters. clean, empty counters. not really even counters; shelves above individual sinks. the better to leave watches on.
no watches.
only one stall closed. it's from here the beeps come. two more.
i wash my hands, my back to the stall, eyeing it in the mirror. two more beeps. silence. beeps.
i wonder why he doesn't turn it off.
i wonder if he hears it.
i wonder who he is.
how he is.
if he is.
i wave my hand in front of the paper towel dispenser and dry my hands with the proferred piece, leaving my hands half-wet.
the alarm again.
i start to look under the stall door for feet, but don't. i just leave.


the watch, alone in the stall, is relieved to hear me go. it thought i would never leave. it sits in its locked stall and beeps twice. then considers the echo on the tiles. and beeps again.

33

the end of a book of bus tickets.

an envelope.

this is a cart

and it's ready for me. to just start pulling things off the shelves until i have what i want.

and it has to start somewhere.

the silver is shiny. it's a metal cart, this one. not the rickety, gray plastic crap. this is sturdy. able to do damage if you use it right. and able to take a blow.

one wheel is rickety and wobbles wildly as we go. it'll do a quick 360 every now and again and the rest of the wheels will wonder why they got stuck with this one.

but it's a cart. and it'll do.


(and i'm sorry we even had to go here)