An hour ago I auditioned for Doug Katsaros’s new musical. Katsaros wrote this B-flat. It’s late, I’m hungry, I’m waiting in line for a sandwich. To my left is a woman: five-foot-four, possibly Filipino or Korean. She has a thick pair of wire rims on her stubby nose. She carries about fifty pounds of unflattering weight, mostly around her belly. Her thick fingers, devoid of any rings, sift through her wallet. As they do so, I catch a glimpse of a neatly stacked wad of orange Super Lotto tickets.
And in that instant she becomes very real to me, a life of the same recipe as yours and mine, a creature of mud and dreams.
