Writer: Rachel Au-Yong

Photo credit: Sharon Huang-Wok

Collisions

amidst the weightlessness of time
the gravity of our situation is apparent.
the pain is profoundly singular— even snowflakes, suspended

in an uncontrollable descent, know

there will never be another like them.

everything is up in the air;
we are aimless asteroids in search of answers.
i try to conceal my heart
–these tongue-tied aches–
but in my mind’s eye,

they are bodies-atmospheric dancing in between the sheets,

the quickened pulse and calm serene,

like dust settling in slow-motion.

so i wake, spiral-bound:
the light should hit us any time now,
a snapshot in eternity that tells us
loneliness once cried out from the center of the universe.

***
About the poet:
Rachel Au-Yong is working towards a B.A. in Politics, Philosophy and Economics at the University of Pennsylvania in Philadelphia. Her poems have appeared in Eye on the World: Healing Silence and performed at How to Cook a Wolf, a women’s poetry session.

Writer: Yang Ming

SYNOPSIS

This two-part play portrays two different points of view. In the first part, an obituary writer’s life is shattered after the demise of her mother, who contracted metastic cancer. A year later, memories of her mother constantly resurface in the writer’s life. Gradually, she learns to let go of her grief and embrace new hopes and dreams.

Part Two shows their doctor’s point of view on the healthcare system, and her personal emotional struggle as she watches her patients die in the face of terminal illness.

This excerpt is taken from Act 1, Scene 5.

Photo credit: Sharon Huang-Wok

April is in the house, making a phone call to her colleague.

April:            Hi Gabe, I thought about the article which Boss gave me… Yes it’s the one about this old man who owns an electrical company… No, I was worried about the information and about his life. Well, my research isn’t giving me any heads ups. All I know is that he died of cancer—something which runs in the family… Yes… No, I am not saying that it’s hard for me to write about but that it’s something I am not comfortable writing about. Is there any way I can… What? Boss said that? (She listens even more attentively than before.) No, I am not going back to office at the moment. He knows it. Send the stuff to me via email. Sure, I will talk to you again. Bye.

She puts down the phone.

Tears start welling in her eyes.

Jessie enters.

Jessie:         Why don’t you go back to work?

April:            Mum, when did you arrive? Were you standing behind me all this while?

Jessie:         You were talking loudly on the phone.

April:            I was just on the phone with my colleague. You remember Gabe? He was my coursemate back in the University.

Jessie:         Ah yes, I remember him. He came to our house once during one of the New Years. You guys were in a relationship, right?

April:            Mum, that was a long time ago.

Jessie:         No, that was not long ago. Last year, right?

April:            No. It was one and a half years ago.

Jessie:         So what happened?

April:            It didn’t work out. Our characters clashed. It’s just one of those things. But we are friends now. He is engaged to another obituary writer in our department. He is attracted to death.

Jessie:         April!

April:            Sorry, I was joking. But they look quite compatible.

Jessie:         Now, it’s working hours. Why aren’t you at work?

April:            I am working. From home.

Jessie:         Why do you need to work from home?

April:            But I have been working from home for the past one year. Don’t give me that surprised look, Mum.

Jessie:         I am concerned about you. If you do that too often, your boss will kick you out of your company.

April:            I have every reason to work from home. It’s not as if I am not doing my job. I still fulfill my work expectations except that I work from home. I even save on transportation fees.

Jessie:         But you are not working with your colleagues. You are working with yourself and yourself. This was not what I taught you when you were a little girl. That’s why I sent you to school.

April:            This is a different matter.

Jessie:         I don’t care if it’s a different matter or not but you are going to work right now.

April:            I am working! But at home!

Jessie:         I want you to get out of the house and go to your office. I don’t want work to be done at my house. The house is for sleeping, not working.

April:            Mum, can you stop controlling at what I am doing? I am old enough to think for myself.

Jessie:         Who takes care of you when you are sick? Who looks after you when you don’t have food on the table? You can’t even take care of yourself. How can I not control you?

April:            I really don’t want to go to the office, okay?

Jessie:         You are always not listening to me…

April:            Mum, I have listened to you since I was young. I really know what I am doing. I just can’t bring myself to go to work. My mind just… no… I just can’t.

Jessie:         Why are you so stubborn?

April:            Just let me be, Mum.

Jessie:         I will just let you do whatever you want.

Jessie begins to leave.

April:            Mum, you are leaving?

Jessie:         If I don’t leave, what can I do?

April:            Where can you go?

Jessie:         To my place.

April:            Mum, can you just not go?

Daniel enters.

Daniel:         April?

Jessie exits.