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Cecilyalater

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I stand downstage
Alone
a harsh light is focused on me
the tape of my microphone is as itchy as my old wool sweater
a gift from my Omi
the blue morpho butterflies in my stomach threaten to come alive
my mind
searches
the director mouths the words at me
but I know them already I am just
waiting
for my moment

my mouth opens
I come alive and become a character
my lines I have spent hours memorizing don’t seem like
Lines
they are my words
my
thoughts

The light has now become
a comforting warm glow
that wraps me in warmth
encourages me
the tape is no longer a distraction
my beautiful blue butterflies are gone
They flew into oblivion
only to come back for my next
Performance

I wait
Someone walks on stage
I wait she is my cue
nothing else
a background
character

The play flashes by
with bright lights
costume problems
and
make-up mishaps
but
none of this matters
for this is my last scene
my last chance
to make a splash in this dog eat dog acting world

As I say my last words
I prepare
I
fall
down
for a
long
time
I hit the floor
The audience
gasps
I am holding their attention
The curtain is drawn
it is
over
I drag myself off the floor
getting ready to face the real
world.




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