Ten Beginnings... And One End
By Meg Wise-Laurence
First performed at the Bitter End
with music by Toby Kasavan
July 21, 1999
Background acrylic
by Thom Williams
2.

If I had nine lives I think that in eight
I would love
and not leave
you.

**
"Is my hair on fire?"

"No."

"Would you take a look? I smell something burning."

"They're tarring the streets outside.  Cable did something with the wires."

"The wires.What wires? The wires inside your head?"

She holds clumps of hair out beside her head, like horns or like a little
Dutch girl's braids.  He'd like to kiss her-- that is until she cackles like
a witch.  He could live without the grating sound of her goddamn laughter.
He watches her, suffering in his own way a sickness unto death.

Jane
tilts
her head back
and has her mouth wide open, like a hungry baby bird.  She's a baby and
woman all at once.  The beautiful maiden luring the huntsman into her forest
lair.  Autumn hair.  Then she transforms into something haggard, mean and
ugly, once he's trapped inside.

And she's a bird.  An alien bird.

"Hey, are you getting old reruns of 'The Twilight Zone' in there?"

She cackles again. At least she remembered the name of his favorite show.

Willy says, "Shutup, Jane."

**

She was cryin' when he came home. Cry me a river. All she ever did any more
was weep for humanity. Seven beginnings, one end. It was bad enough that he
was out of work, but she knew where he'd been all day-- hanging out by the
river with his former bass player, Johnny. Fishing and smoking some weed,
maybe hauling back a beer or two.  If they were looking to be hired as bums
then maybe Austin really was looking for work.

(Austin?  Willy?  Who the f**k was she crying about?)

So I cry, Jane thinks. I cry in the morning for the sun-- I cry in the moon
at night. What a maudlin life they lead, dancing circles and sometimes boxes
around each other. So many roads not taken-- absorbed beginnings. Working
different shifts, never catching up with each other.

"Is my hair on fire?"

Willy --my husband-- hates me so much. He can't even look at me. We go
through our routines and he notices me just enough to avoid bumping into me.
I'm like a piece of dog s**t.

Third Part