Tiny Imaginary Play #3

Two women sit in an urban park throwing bread crumbs to pigeons.

One has hair so long it twirls around her body to the ground, where it blends in with the autumn leaves.

The second has fingernails so long that their curlicues dance with every gesture. She is visibly pregnant.

They look at the birds.

ONE WITH THE HAIR: The first time you really think you're going to die. Each contraction feels that much closer, and you keep thinking of all the women throughout history who've died in childbirth, and all the animals that die immediately after giving birth --

The woman with the fingernails gives her a look.

HAIR: Sorry.

They go back to feeding the birds.

HAIR: When my second was born, though, it felt like an orgasm.

FINGERNAILS: They say death feels like that too.

HAIR: Men get erections, right?

FINGERNAILS: I think that's just in Beckett

HAIR: No, really, I think it's rigor mortis or something.

FINGERNAILS: I mean better, like the release.

HAIR: Who says?

FINGERNAILS: I guess it's a hypothesis.

Suddenly a pigeon falls out of the sky with a splat, landing in front of them. It stands up, tries to take a few steps, and then falls over dead.

The women look at each other.

FINGERNAILS: I wish I could just skip to the second time.

(Written 02/02/11, after Solo Training Session #3)