There were horror films, here's the dramatic poem of anxiety.
It's a feline and political feminist autofiction.
A cathartic and dirty draining performance, written in 2020.

And you know it.

The narrative is as dark as the actresses who revisit that word by inserting their Creole side.
‘Seven nights, seven sleepless nights, a woman cut in half and her seven pussies.’

It could be summed up like that.

How sometimes you must touch the bottom of the pool filled with depression to bounce back.
How chaos can become strong. How not all pussies can be eaten.
Rébecca Chaillon invites Stela Bevao to perform confinement and systemic violence
that

prevents one from closing an eye.

It smells like pâté, and the words are haunted by humour, sensuality and death, to better
wake up from

the nightmare of reality.