Vertically Challenged Stories

Spotlight

In the darkness of the stage's wings, my other senses seemed to work overtime to compensate. The smell of sweat and paint engulfed my nostrils. Faceless, hurrying people pushed past me. Lights illuminating the stage spilled over into the wings. I could see a few masks here. A large piano there. Dancers desperately trying to rehearse steps at the eleventh hour. A script fluttering across my line of vision. You don't know a play until you've been in one.

A push here, a shove there; personal space was irrelevant and unknown, a foreign concept. Harsh whispering like snakes hissing seemed to spring at me from all directions. Stagehands barked orders and frantically signed the tech team from below the stage. The humidity threatened to crumple me like the palpable tension in the air. Daring to sneak a peek at the audience, I looked and immediately recoiled. The bright lights of the stage were as blinding as the sun, and I saw green and pink spots dancing in front of my eyes.

I retreated to the safety of the dark wings and tried to calm my heart which felt like it would burst. Someone shoved past me with that piano I'd seen earlier. Hisses turned to sobs; nervous actors were shedding tears and ruining their caked-on makeup. Suddenly, the inevitable happened.

"It's showtime."

For that one moment, time stood still as well as the tongues. Eyes darted from person to person, exchanging words unsaid. Knowing nods. Encouraging smiles. Goofy grins and thumbs-ups. Everything that we had prepared for these past few months led to this very moment. Nothing else seemed to matter.

Music played from the speakers while the stage became dark, so that the actors could come on and the play could start. With a sudden chill I suddenly remembered that I needed to get onto the stage as well. I ignored the rivulets of sweat pouring down my neck and staggered to my position. I fervently hoped my speech wouldn't be affected by my heart being in my throat. I was NOT messing this up. No way in hell.

I glanced at the wings where my friends and co-actors looked on. The murmur of the audience filled my ears, an odd combination with the music. I looked at all the other actors; a last round of 'good luck's was taking place. It was then that I understood the depth of the bond that had formed between us all. It was no longer 'I have to do well', it was 'we have to do well'. 

The music stopped, lights came on, and the stage came alive.

THE END.