An Art Show Called Art Show

This is the plan.

This is not a poem or a fiction.

I will not try to make this happen, so there's a ninety nine percent chance this will not happen.

Your alarm goes off at six p.m. You are hungry for hors d'œrvres and white or red wine. You leave your apartment and drive to the gallery. It is sparingly attended.

Each room is white and brightly fluorescent. 

Room 1.

Abigail

She sits on a simple old brown wooden chair on a 4 by 4 feet platform that is 8 feet tall, an old typewriter on a similar platform in front of her. To the right of it is a stack of blank sheets of paper taller than the platform. She cranks them through the typewriter one by one. They fall hopefully all over the place. The room is 16 by 16 by 16 feet. The openings of the rooms are 4 by 8 feet. The walls are 1 foot thick. 

Room 2.

Man 1

The room is 10 by 10 by 20, the walls with openings are 20 feet. He sits on a white plastic folding chair at a white plastic folding table with 2 fax machines on it, against the far wall, right of the opening. He faxes blank pages back and forth. 

Room 3.

Man 2

In a 20 by 20 by 20 room, he walks along the walls. When he passes the outlet on the far wall, he plugs or unplugs a pink neon sign lying face up on the floor by the right wall. It says Art Show in cursive.

Room 4.

Magda

Paper sculptures of trees are all over the walls and halfway over the ceiling. Paper leaves are all over the floor with a little dirt. When you enter, she walks up close to you staring at your face, curious or scared, and follows you. There is a red exit sign above a door that goes to the alley behind the gallery.

- The gallery is in the middle of a strip of connected buildings in an almost central dense area. The front is plain with a big window. On the wall in black is An Art Show Called Art Show.