Months ago the clan of deviants known as Wildclaw Theatre Company assembled in an apartment on the northside. We read a play. A play about 3 women, one of whom was unable to die. Or something…

After lots of discussion, brain jammery & revisions we’re now in rehearsals for that play.
Kill Me is already one of the most enigmatic processes I’ve ever been a part of. The options are seemingly limitless and the room is full of beautiful brains challenging the playwright (who’s sitting right over there…). Where, when, and how these people are is as fluid as the ink in your pen, and as shifty as that guy standing on the corner of Broadway and Sheridan at 2am. The imagery concocted by the dialogue is following me home at night, and has already worked its way into my dreams. It nags me and posits rusty whispers in my ears.
So it’s no surprise that standard prose is proving unsatisfying.
Stephen Crane has been one of my favorite poets ever since I discovered this poem. He’s dark, his words growl and 9 times out of 10 I feel uneasy after a stanza or two. Lately, I find myself muttering this particular poem under my breath and thinking, “That poor soul.” However, everyone’s journey for their universal truth is their own. So, who am I to judge? To question? No one. I’m just as lost & found as my neighbor.
No better.
So, if your neighbor, or your lover says “I can’t die.” And you deny them their pursuit, they’ll just keep running towards the horizon.
Trust me.
I know.

– Michaela Petro, WildClaw company member and KILL ME cast member

“I saw a man pursuing the horizon”
by Stephen Crane

I saw a man pursuing the horizon;
Round and round they sped.
I was disturbed at this;

I accosted the man.
“It is futile,” I said,
“You can never –“

“You lie,” he cried,
And ran on.