unclenoah

the lights snapped on and the curtain rose as it did every night since this show opened. i could hit my marks blindfolded and the lines came out of my mouth with as little sincerity as i could muster. the audience stared back at me - blank faces searching for something they knew wasn't there, but disappointed if they were let in on the illusion. how long could i prowl the stage before something would have to change? how long before the invisible wall would come tubling down? would the show consume the audience or would the audience overwhelm their fantasies and bring us players back to reality? it was the kind of question that gets answered by a gunshot on a dark street in mid november.