Gray and slovenly, her studio apartment bed is unmade, empty beer cans and wine bottles are scattered about, used toilet paper overflows a basket from the always open bathroom door. We may have already read the program notes to know this a story of two women, both ex-cons, but as the dialogue unwraps this story, the similarity of this small apartment to a prison cell becomes all the clearer.
This is Marie’s pad. When there is a knock at the door she flinches in startled horror, breaking her trance in front of her soundless TV. It’s Lorraine, her cellmate for what we infer was quite a stretch of time in Marie’s young life. Newly released Lorraine, 50ish, seems to be carrying what’s left of her life in her duffel-bag.
