Month of May '26
Work from participant
My work
Week 1: write a story potraying your ideal future
I wake up without an alarm. The sun's warm light seeping through linen curtains, turkey roars instead of traffic. The garden outside is overgrown, tomatoes heavy on the vine, basil leaves overcrowding their stems. I spend the morning farming, riding, journaling in an empty field all to myself. In the afternoon, a friend stops by. We sit on the porch, watching the light change. I cook my dinner with the ingredients I grew myself, the pump tomatoes and basil populating my fridge. Life has no more demands. I eat at my own pace, sleep with my own routine. Not running towards anything.
Week 3: write a story that takes place 3 seconds before a car crash
The rain had been falling for hours, building up pools overflowing the sidewalk. I was driving home from an unforgettable shift, radio off, the silence filling with the sound of rain.
Three seconds.
A deer stepped onto the road. Standing there frozen, its eyes reflecting my headlights.
Two seconds.
The wheel slips, my foot pressing the gas pedal instead of the brake. Tires slip, lose their grip, the car turns sideways.
One second.
The leftover food flashes before my eyes. An image of my dog waiting at home. My father is waiting for my daily call back home.
Zero.
The sound was worse than I imagined. And then, quiet.
Work from participant
Work from participant
Week 2: fictionalise a significant moment in your past and change its outcome
The audition room was small, the windowless 4 sided room only echoing feelings of isolation. I stood in the center, script trembling in my hands, while three people behind a folding table stared at my expressionless face.
I had practiced for weeks, every line imprinted onto my mind. But when I opened my mouth, they heard nothing but silence. Just the hum of the fluorescent lights and the sound of my own heartbeat palpitating out of my chest. Just as I was about to speak, they thanked me for my time. And I stood there shocked, dwelling on my missed opportunity. And for the next five years, I never auditioned again.
Week 4: you're a detective pondering between two suspects
The file sits open on my desk. Two names. Two stories. Both plausible. Both are impossible.
Suspect One: the wife. Alibi was confirmed by three witnesses. Too calm, but maybe grief looks like that.
Suspect Two: the business partner. Nervous, sweating, stories changing. But being nervous isn't guilt.
I've been staring at these files for six hours. My coffee no longer hot. The precinct is empty. Somewhere out there, one of them is sleeping soundly, and the other is staring at the ceiling, waiting to be caught.