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Snow in the front row

A night at the theatre

By Connor Published 3 months ago 2 min read
Snow in the front row
Photo by Josh Hild on Unsplash

“Darling, come now, we are going to miss the show”.

He sat on the divan, sipping a glass of red chateauneuf du pape.

“Yes, dear, but I absolutely must make myself presentable before I walk down these porch steps. Do you want the Rothenbergs to start asking questions about what happened to my face?” She was adding the final touches to conceal the bruise from the night before. She caught herself smiling.

“Well if you must darling, but we SIMPLY CANNOT miss the curtain.”

After a long 15 minutes the woman emerged, face fully powdered, bruise concealed.

“Shall we be my love?”She said, strutting into the room.

“Yes dear. I must say you look drop dead gorgeous,” He finished kissing her hand and dancing her into the hallway. He opened the door to leave.

“Put a jacket on, you'll catch your death. Look, it's starting to snow ! ”

The walk to the theater was peaceful and white, the auras of dusk staining the skies with vivid pink hues reflected and refracted by the dancing flakes in the air. Ephemeral. They walked hand in hand. They were going to the pantomime.

They arrived and were given front row seats due to their stature among the community.

The play went on and all was well if it was not for the man and woman in the front row joking and laughing both loudly and manically.

They were heckled by the audience until the intermission, not that they took an notice.

At the intermission they were greeted by an old woman in a black dress.

You think yourself greater than them all,

Instead of rise ,

You shall fall.

You shall wail

Your soul shall stay

To the point of no return?

Your bodies with burn,

The rest be lain in an urn,

Not under a fern,”

She croaked and gave the man and woman both a fern and disappeared.

The intermission ended and the play continued, unfortunately it never got to finish.

Halfway thru the final act a plane crashed into the roof of the theater , landing into the front row. Luckily only two people were killed, amid laughter.

Their body’s were gracefully covered with snow within minutes.

Fiction

About the Creator

Connor

I'm a storyteller by birth and a supervisor in a cocktail bar by circumstance. I have never stopped telling stories but I haven't put pen to paper as much as I should have in recent years , here is my attempts at fixing that.

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    Connor Written by Connor

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