I’ve been asked by Jenny & Simon L. to help them finish their ‘play.’ We don’t have much time. The 3 of us sit in the empty theatre & I open a notebook & see what’s been written already. What I find there is just music notation. I look back & study what was written in the previous measures, & then try to write in an ending that fits the preexisting music as best I can. I am writing the end of the play. The music IS the play: even though there will be actors speaking lines on stage, this music notation is the only script.

A 3rd friend arrives—Tracy M. She’s the lead actor. She stands just inside the entrance to the dark theatre with the open door behind her, sunlight pouring in, cutting her silhouette into the rectangular frame. She is wearing huge black sunglasses & a white, one-piece bathing suit & smoking a cigarette overdramatically. The play is about to start.

I run out into the street to find a man. I need to tell him that the play is starting, either because he shouldn’t miss it, or because I want to make sure he doesn’t accidentally walk in & see it—I’m not sure. All I know is that the man is incredibly self-destructive, & somehow seeing or not seeing the play will compound his selfdestruction. I rush around. When I find him on the street he is glowing from the power & pressure of his selfdestruction, literally, glowing like a cartoon that just walked out of a radiation chamber, or like a star about to supernova all over the sidewalk.