Truth or Drawer

You say Truth, and they sit you down on a couch. Then a person in a full gorilla costume comes out of the back and moves toward you with a silver tray held out flat, the way a waiter carries champagne. On the tray are old postcards, face down, each one with a sobering life-truth written by hand. You take one and read it. Somebody photographs you holding it. And then you're sitting on a couch in a room full of people, holding a hard sentence about being alive.