PEARS. exacerbate.

EXHALE.

this afternoon at the train station

i exhale

i take out my green pear.

BITE.

oh god oh no

this pear has cancer,

i gave it cancer.

CRY.

there is a brown spot where my mouth bit.

there is a cancer and a spot i avoid eating

- it turns into a tumor.

AVOID.

the pear is delicious when i get to the good parts

the pear is delicious when i don't want to cry at it

into it, salt water and fruit juice.

on the train i notice a man with a bandage on the side of his head, at his temple. WE ARE ALL INJURED. EVEN THE PEARS. I AM STILL FEELING OFF.

in my playwriting class today, everyone liked what i had written. probably the most positive feedback i've gotten yet. "it reminds me of the handmaid's tale," was one comment. i know. i knew it when i wrote it. "damn," i said to myself, "this is the most atwood thing." and i didn't like it because of that. i love margaret atwood and the handmaid's tale but i liked my play over.there, not as something i had written, as something that my writing buddy hannah might have written. i don't want to sound like anyone, which i realize is really naive but ultimately an honest thought.

i want to write a play like crave by sarah kane.

well, i don't want to be depressed enough to write a play like crave, but you understand?

the style, the images,

it's forty-five minutes of busted up spitfire poetry.

i saw a production of it at school tonight and it was beautiful.

my writing buddy hannah said she thought i would like it, that it was a very "me" play. i agree, i think. i want it to be me: in style and staging, but i am not that obviously broken. but i think the style and structure and staging is maybe more than half the play. that point can be argued. hannah also introduced me to her friend/producer:

"do you two know each other?"

(head shakes all around.)

"this is nora."

"i'm emma," i say.

(hand shakes all around.)

"she's our costume designer," says hannah with a smile.

on tuesday hannah asked me to be the costume designer for the show she is directing in the spring semester, the last five years. tuesday was a great day. i said yes. i want to do a good job. i want to do the best job. i want to make the costumes

PERFECT.

i want to sew them all by hand and machine.

FROM SCRATCH.

there are only two characters (i haven't read the script, but i know that much) and they must be attired perfectly.

the characters may be injured, but their clothes will suit them perfectly. their clothes will attire their injury. their clothes will be their unsuspecting pear skin, the first layer before we bite in, just like in real life on train station platforms.