stacks of sleds. students planning a skiing trip.  college kids raiding the freezer of their Mother.  She’s got the head and torso of an egg, humpty dumpty style.  Her abdomen and thighs are curtains tied back, a belt buckle is a disproportionately small window. Her knees and calves are sticks.  Her feet are conjoined mermaid fins.  Her magic is what holds the world together, gives us life.  and everyone is taking advantage of Her. i’m Her caregiver.  people keep coming in and out of Her living quarters, stealing Her food just because it will be replenished.  but not always. and not forever.  when alan cumming enters, i’ve had enough.
WHY DOES EVERYONE HAVE KEYS?! i yell at them. what gives them the right to come and go and take as they please without so much as a thank you? She’s sick in bed. I demand a new suite.  I tell Her that She can stay in this place as long as She wants, any room at all. But She needs undisturbed rest.  She needs a room with a different key.