Show Time

There I am - standing in the darkness. Although I can't see anything, I sense their stares.

Each set of eyes, staring at the same place. Each of their minds, all waiting for the light...

And then I can see. However, only barely. Each silhouette in the audience, each one with a story, some of love, others of despair and hatred. Though I can't tell whose story belongs to who, I know one thing.

They are all here with me, in this moment.

How should I greet this crowd? A crowd of so much diversity?

I could give them a smile, I could hold my chin high, laugh, and dance. Then the happy silhouettes would smile as they always do.

I could hide myself, I could hug myself as if inflicted internally, I could cry, and not look up. Then the sad silhouettes would look up, and know they aren't alone...

...because although I may be theatre,  although I may be a lie, I still could show them they aren't alone. I could show that even though I'm just an actor, I can sense their pain. That way maybe, just maybe they could get the courage to portray their own sorrow, or at least learn how.

And now it's show time.