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rebecca.December twenty sixth—the day that little Rebecca joined my ballet class. I remember that the night before the snow had drifted terribly, and I almost cancelled class that week. I remember that my wife was six months pregnant at the time. I remember that I never knew a little girl could change my life so much. I’m getting ahead of myself, let’s start at the beginning. I feel the need to write this, not out of a want for fame, not because of some divine destiny, but out of respect. Respect for the most influential, the most awe-inspiring, and the wisest person that I have ever met. The year was 1987 and I was twenty five. I had jusrebecca.
by ~amarvelouscalm
untitled3Stage lights up. A misshapen trash can and a twin bed are visible. A walks in and rummages in the trash can, B crawls from under the bed.untitled3
A: (humming I love Lucy} B: Fiend! How dare you say such things! A: What—what things? B: Don’t you play dumb, I speak French! A: But I really don’t know what yo— [B advances on A menacingly] B: My mother did not! A: I-I-I think you may have the wrong person! [B comes to a stop, and a neutral demeanor comes over him] B: Oh? Really, well, then, what’s your name, sir? A: The playwright didn’t give me a name, per se, but he calls me A. &nb
by ~amarvelouscalm
love is a jokeIn a perfect world good would conquer evil, happiness would conquer sorrow, love would conquer all, and everyone would live happily ever after; alas, such a world is that of fairy tales and in the faulted existence people call life optimism disappoints and love is a joke that’s punchline rarely provokes laughter.love is a joke
by ~amarvelouscalm
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