© 1990 (or 1991?)

Wyn is standing over a pot of chicken soup, slowly stirring as the steam rises to meet her. In long shot she'd look like someone from a Campbell's commercial but from here I can see that her face is pale. I've caught a cold somewhere—the checkout boy at the supermarket who didn't cover his mouth when he coughed or the new woman at work who has spent the last two days speaking in whispers like a schoolgirl with a secret she just must tell. There are worse things, though—other colds you can catch—and I don't envy Wyn.

© 1995 (or 1996?)

She comes to me so softly, fingertips gently on my shoulders. I have always known this feeling—like I've fallen out of time and place. Yes, Jadrienne's arrival is the most familiar thing in the world, or wherever we may be.

Jadrienne is smiling at me and I know what she's thinking: funny man with his funny old bones. "Dryopithecus," I say, waving a bone in the air. "Ten million years old." But it's obvious she can't hear me today. Sometimes she can't. Sometimes I can hardly see her, only hear her in my mind. She waves back and she's gone again. Just like that, leaving the lab anchored in American academia.

© 1992

Nicholas and I are sitting in Orren's office. Orren is the director. He smokes constantly and speaks quietly. Nicholas thinks Orren is brilliant.

Nicholas doesn't sleep much. When he does he lies curved into himself. Nicholas has weary grey eyes but a boyish smile. He doesn't like the sun. He has never been to Jamaica.

Nicholas is my first actor. He has the role of the main character in Little Time Bomb. I play (big stretch) an actress.