Untitled Project on Sibling Actors, Post 14:

AUDIENCE AND STAGE AT WAR

At this time many in the audience may want a break. This deep into the words and some buttocks are beginning to numb from the weight of bone and upper organs. The shading of these organic outlines is no flighty business; direction takes time. Instances of eventfulness depend on a meeting of time and one chosen from out of many places. There has been essentially one setting and perhaps fifteen places, so it falls back on the eternal stream of time. Yardleys have all the time in the world, so we will have to cap them off at some point. Take the fabric cutting shears and cut the cord between family and its power source. Sever the feed before it all turns mushy. 

Numb flesh burns, but if we give them a fifteen-minute break between each part to the play, then we’ll never finish. Yes, unfortunately the first part goes directly into the second, with only a brief black curtaining for cushioning the head and rebuilding stamina. Believe us when we say that we want nothing more than to keep your favor. Numb flesh gives way to fire. 

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 WOMEN ON FIRE

Sophia scratches the side of her knee under the thick hem of her dress. Perspiration comes and goes and the armpits of her attire have become slightly damp. Little wet creases have formed all alongside her fabric where it has been pressed into the red velvet of her seat throughout the first act. The man next to her is bursting out of his tightly drawn in suit. His fat bulges out of the arms of the wool jacket and brush forcefully against her skin. She can feel the expansion and decompression of his lungs ripple in energy throughout the rest of his body. Earlier there were moments when she thought she might make more of an effort to synchronize her breathing with his, so that there wouldn't be any awkward counter rhythms. It hasn't been as unbearable for her as times where she is lying in bed with a man who refuses to meet her pace of breathing and instead respirates on the downbeats of her own phrasing, but the unevenness of this small physical interplay is apparent to her enough at times to detract from the action on stage. 

She wishes she could have had a seat secured for her up with her friends, Christopher and Julien, in their box secluded on the third tier, with more space for her emotional response to the performances to occupy leisurely, but those seating arrangements were finalized ages ago. I can't wait to get the fuck out of here. There is a damp air about the row from the crowd and Sophia is finding it harder and harder to resist taking a stroll out of the theater into foyer for a breather and refill of bubbly. Sophia twitches slightly and this movement is registered by the man next to her who brings his arm closer in to his body. Jesus, do you mind? For the most part strangers do not enjoy being trespassed upon and he can appreciate that boundary once it is reinforced. The man is cultured and the actively cultured members of society are generally apt in the art of feeling and permitting personal space. He watches Laurent up on stage bring tea out to Charlotte, who, unlike Sophia next to him, has become quite comfortable in her seating arrangement next to the director, Broussard. Suddenly remembering the knot in his neck, he manipulates the muscles to crack his joints and ligaments and Sophia responds by exhaling a quick stream of air through her nostrils to communicate a growing lack of impatience.