a body made of chicken wire, glue and paper. built up over the days, layer by layer, strip by strip, to become a hardened shell. then paint applied, a mixture of greens, browns and blacks. finally, a detachable monster’s head. a precious item. the performance arrives. muffled instructions received and misunderstood. a roaring entrance down the aisle to the stage. parents watching. a speech given, time to turn and leave. a pathway narrows until I’m stuck in rows. unable to move. the heat rises in the costume, the papier-mâché body seems so thin. stiffled laughter permeates the hall. parents come to the rescue, moving chairs. the monster is freed and makes a quick exit.