we drive to the supermarket. dj on the radio says it is a beautiful morning. you trace the words on our shopping list. the shelf life of fruit and vegetables are the only things we agree on now. like, tomatoes keep longer out of the fridge. the dj shouts now — the car doors fling open and we fall out at the same time. the car continues to roll — trips over itself and catches fire. it can’t help itself. we blink and there is a crowd around us. you point to the burning car and ask if we can use someone’s phone. a white van bursts through the crowd — tv crew jumps out.  a voice holding a microphone demands we kiss. reporting live from the scene. helicopters circle. the reporter is now a director. says i’m missing my mark. says to hurry up so they can get home for dinner. i look back and the fire is now a spotlight. we have earpieces. you stare at me and we are rolling and all i can think about is what time the supermarket closes. you say i left the bags in the car. i say we can get new ones. the reporter commends our improv but he’s not feeling the chemistry.  

don’t you want the audience back on our side?

don’t you want a renewal?

don’t you want to keep going?

they hand us cue cards.  get closer. neither of us moves. i say i wanted it to be real. they say perfect. again.  i say i wanted it to be real.

and they say cut.