they ask me to fill a gap in the team of a project no one seems to want. I smile and say I’m happy to help where they need. the rain clears between meetings and soon the glare is too much even through the curtain. the lens is worn and no distraction is enough. I stop reading the news and take my guilt out for a run.
after dinner we watch a film about a troupe of actors hired to fill the gaps left by loved ones no longer around. they ask questions of their contractors about those they mourn to prepare for performance. did they have a favourite sport or actor? how would they start conversation? the actors assume the role of ghosts and do their best to entertain the illusions of those they’re paid to haunt. sometimes they’re fed lines or told to drink more water. sometimes they forget it’s all performance. I think about the job and what I’d make of it. already every day is danced to someone else’s choice of song. I am running out of steam but I know what people want to see and how much we wish for what we can never have again. would wearing someone else’s grief protect me from my own? I think of being more than who I am and freedom from myself as a canvas for anyone with pain and time to hide from. how long could I make it last? the thought is poison and a dream on a shelf I can’t reach. I would love to act again.
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