ABSTRACT
Twelve people who live or work in the same neighborhood receive notices requiring them to make theatre together for three months. They are people who share the same stretches of sidewalk every day, touch the same paper cups, mugs, plates, and forks, and even, on occasion, pass a word or two. But otherwise they are strangers, only dimly recognizable to one another in traces and parts: an umbrella spinning to avoid a branch, a quick hand at the cash register, cigarettes in assembly, pink backpacks on the run.
