Drip. Drip. Drip.
The endless sound of the leaking pipes.
Crack. Crack. Crack.
The endless walls of peeling paint.
Clink. Clink. Clink.
The solemn keys of the lonely piano.
All the chairs, deserted. All the corners, empty. All the glass, smashed.
Silence danced on the stage, like the entire room was filled. The refrain finishes and the darkness erupts into applause. The air holds its breath, and the chair breaks, as the shining chandelier drops, and the floor rises to meet it.
Laughter turns to screams and applause starts the race. All leave… but one.
Silence stays where she is.
Everyone rushes past her, like she’s not there and she looks up. Nose to nose with the chandelier, she winks and whispers, “I didn’t like them anyway.” Does she sink or does the chandelier rise? Either way she is untouched and unharmed. She looks forward. She winks and the endless refrain repeats, as she spins into oblivion.
by The Masked Girl