..in a completely good way.
http://stormyhaze.blogspot.com/ (title: A Little Thank-You Note)
This post leaves me speechless. Utterly completely speechless.
I love you, sis :)
Sunday, December 18, 2011
one winter day
Sure, it's all going great, at least as great as she never thought it would be. Their laughter vibrated off the auditorium and everyone is smiling and hugging and dancing and singing off the top of their lungs. There's this warm burst of happiness in their chests every day and night and these two in particular cannot stop smiling at each other, shaking their heads unable to believe that everything is a great as they never thought it would be.
The tickle in their stomach, the gleeful look in their eyes, the bubble of laughter escaping their throat, the exchange of witty banter and inside jokes that only the two of them know. The unspeakable level of understanding that they have of each other just by exchanging brief glances. Hand gestures. Body language. It's all going oh so great; yes, it's happening and no; it's not only a friction of imagination.
But what happens when the show ends and the reality starts?
When the lights go out and the script is no longer written; when the rest of the cast heads home in sorrow and the laughter stops echoing in the room; when the playbook she's holding in her hand reads 'THE END-NOW WHAT?'; when the words finally die in his throat; when the music abruptly stops and all heads turn to see who's standing in the doorway in horror; when he's a deer caught in the headlight; when the big question arrives and reality sets in; when it's time to flip the coin and make a decision; when the audience gets up and leaves one by one with one last bittersweet look at the lead male and female cast; when the janitor passes by and sweeps everything off the floor, including the remains of the scripts;
I guess there's no other way for her but to have one final bow and exit stage; left.
The tickle in their stomach, the gleeful look in their eyes, the bubble of laughter escaping their throat, the exchange of witty banter and inside jokes that only the two of them know. The unspeakable level of understanding that they have of each other just by exchanging brief glances. Hand gestures. Body language. It's all going oh so great; yes, it's happening and no; it's not only a friction of imagination.
But what happens when the show ends and the reality starts?
When the lights go out and the script is no longer written; when the rest of the cast heads home in sorrow and the laughter stops echoing in the room; when the playbook she's holding in her hand reads 'THE END-NOW WHAT?'; when the words finally die in his throat; when the music abruptly stops and all heads turn to see who's standing in the doorway in horror; when he's a deer caught in the headlight; when the big question arrives and reality sets in; when it's time to flip the coin and make a decision; when the audience gets up and leaves one by one with one last bittersweet look at the lead male and female cast; when the janitor passes by and sweeps everything off the floor, including the remains of the scripts;
I guess there's no other way for her but to have one final bow and exit stage; left.
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