“All the lonely people, where do they all come from. All the lonely people where do they all belong.” ~Eleanor Rigby, The Beatles The first time I heard the song Eleanor Rigby, I cried. I was a little girl in pigtails, but I could see poor Eleanor in my mind, her tragic life laid out before her, hopelessly alone without… Read More
Last night I fired my best friend’s daughter. (We’re still best friends and I adore her daughter.) I also shouted across a crowded room for my prop mistress to hurry up and get over here (rudely) and pissed her off to no end, causing her inquire, (not in a loving tone) about my seemingly relentless anxiety issues. I kicked another… Read More
There is an immense crater, the size of a small lake. Where water once flowed from a nourishing stream into the crystal clear waters of this lake, now the stream is a barren river bed. Dust drifts away at the slightest breeze, deepening the crevice, cracking the ground. Where the lake used to be, the underwater plants have shriveled from the sun’s glare, lying flat against the hard, hot surface of the crater. It smells like death.