Lucid Waking

“Not much between despair and ecstasy”

Theater Secrets

Originally published on January 21, 2006

            Friday was one of the busiest times of the year. Everything had to be closed down and hidden for the weekend. The system was closed and new passwords were created. By the time everything was done, the theatre looked untouched. The stage was swept, the seats replaced, not even the curtain ropes moved. Catherine opened the creaky door and looked around. Her heels clicked as she moved around the room to the box seats. Under there, as promised, lay the weeks rent in one hundred dollar bills. She picked it up and walked out the door. Catherine pulled out her keys and locked the door before leaving for the night.

            “How much are you willing to sell for?” he asked. He was extremely proper and spoke with a heavy English accent. He sat up straight in his chair and not a single speck of durst was on his gray jacket. He wore a white shirt under the jacket and pressed blue jeans with stark white sneakers.
            She leaned over and grabbed a pen from her pencil cup. “I’m not going to sell it.”
            He leaned back in his chair, but still kept his back perfectly straight. “I’m willing to buy it off you for much more than your selling price.”
            Catherine looked up. “Mr. Parker, I’m not willing to sell. No offer, regardless of how large, is going to change my mind. Now if you’ll excuse me, I have lots of paper work and responsibility to attend to. Have a nice day.”
            He got up and pushed his chair closer to her desk. He glanced at her hunched over her paperwork before closing the door quietly and leaving the building.

Viola’s Violin

Originally published on January 15, 2006

           It picked up the violin and started to play. A sugary waltz dripped out of the strings and filled the empty space. The sky was turning copper and orange bars of light fell into the room casting frightening shadows behind the piano. A phonograph sat in the corner, its needle poised threateningly on the turntable. A cello on one wall reflected back some of the orange light upon its shiny surface. Purple streaks started to appear at the top of they sky before footsteps could be heard in the hall.
           “Viola!” a woman ran down the staircase into the ballroom. “Don’t do that! What will Jack say? Remember, you’re not here and I don’t play violin.”
           It looked down at the floor and replaced the violin. It walked towards here wringing its flawless hands. Its fingers were long and thin, but muscles could be easily seen under the skin by the joints. Its hands led to thin arms, thin torso, and thin legs. Its feet were barefoot and it stood on the balls of its feet constantly. It was wearing a tea dress belonging to a tiny child, which only covered its upper body, and trousers to cover down to mid calf. Wings were starting to appear in the dying light as ethereal glimmers in the darkening room. Its face was flawless and neither beautiful nor ugly. Its winter-sky blue eyes were tilted up towards its pointed ears. Its nose was small, lips full, and its skin a dark royal blue. Its hair was as black as the night and neatly tied back behind its ears, the rest down to its shoulder blades.
           The woman smiled and her eyes softened. She took the creature’s hand and led it back to the room at the top of the stairs. She tucked it back into bed and kissed it on the cheek.
           “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said blowing out the candle before leaving the room. She shut the door and sighed. Walking gingerly, she managed to get back into her bedroom without disturbing her husband, writing at a desk opposite the door.
           “Good night, dear,” she said getting into bed and turning to face the opposite wall.
           “Good night,” he said and continued his work. When the moon had almost risen to the middle of the sky, he blew out the candle and got ready for sleep.