A group of teens walked through. Swinging their arms.
A person in a blue sweater scratched her face.
Another opened and closed his mouth.
The purple dancer in the yellow shoes danced near the paper gums.
“Need my help?” “Come up here, come up here.”
The red hooded man put on a paper cap and held his hands open.
Detective enters. Binocs, trench coat, brown hat and loafers.
Purple man keeps dancing.
Red man drapes paper costume ceremoniously on speaker and turns and walks sadly away.
Watched purple man though binoculars.
The detective is gone.
Two men in sports coats circle the room deciding how to proceed.
They costume themselves according to their preferences and continue.
They recostume.
He takes off his jacket to fully experience dragging the green plastic along the ground.
He drags it out of sight.
He transfers it to his friend and watches him dance with it through the–
“What did you look like as a baby? I always wonder this about slender people. Did you have baby fat?”
“What did you look like? Did you have a lot of hair?”
“We all did. My sister says that it was trailing after me when I was born.”
I walked in a circle with C and we talked about fame. He didn’t want all of the constraints on his time, didn’t want the illusion of grandeur. He asked me about outer space and I told him about how I used to get really scared thinking about outer space in my bed at night and how I would comfort myself by thinking that there must be a brick wall at the end of it. We decided that fame and outer space were incompatible. Fame doesn’t exist in outer space. Outer space doesn’t make sense with fame.
“Smart person” puts two binoculars together to try to see better.
A woman assembles a flower out of the installation parts. I think she wanted something more recognizable.
Insertion: Two great aunts and two grandmothers. I’m preparing for more. As my family gets older I want to think more about birthdays to celebrate the time we have together.
Someone looked at me and by this time I knew that they were imagining me as a baby.
I scrunched up my eyes and pretended to cry.
Notes from Circumstances For We at Northern Spark
