I cross paths with them over and over again. Different names, but sometimes they resemble someone else from my past. Same eyes, different smile, different religion. Or no religion. And they are as if I imagined them - erased them - and then wrote the character differently. No, no... he wouldn't say that... she would never do that... they wouldn't look like that. So I change a shirt, they change the sheets, she sips water with lemon and he smokes a cigar. He abruptly pushes the chair back from the table and says it was a delicious meal, but he simply must get back to Milan. They climb the stairs and he stops to listen stories of the rats as they chew on something he can't see because it is too dark. She tries to hide the glitter on her skin as she makes her way to the shower while he has his back turned. He wonders why there isn't a note in his pocket. She thinks about the babies that drowned.
No matter what happens - if you choose this ending - you will have to accept the choices you made that got you there. Here, there, and everywhere.
Pepper + words = art
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