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Saturday, March 31, 2018

5x5: No Small Parts


Note: 5x5 is a new thing, super short stories with a quick illustration, Five paragraphs with five sentences, written at 5 in the morning before work. Thanks! -SD





Opening night and my stomach cramping, my mind racing. Spinning. What is my line? When do I come in . 6 weeks of preparation, gone. Not that I had much to do. Act three. Last Line. “Who ordered the fish.” Or was it steak? Or was it shark?

Dress rehearsal, I did great! Well, didn’t forget my line at least. A sneezing fit did come over me, announcing my entrance a good three minutes before I stepped out. Finally, with my sinuses under control, I entered with my tray and prop entre. Who ordered the… and then, Ah Chew! Again. Rapid fire. Again and again. It took forever to get the fish out of my mouth.

Three hours, that’s how long the play runs, and I had nothing to do for those three hours but think. Stand in the back. Relax. Don’t think. And I didn’t,  but the more I didn’t, the more I did. My hands fidgeting, and when I fidget, I snap. My fingers. Just to dispel the energy. The play was rolling, the audience seated in the dark and Julie, who I loved, was on her fifth monologue, the second most sad one. Darryl, our stage manager, heard the clicky-clack coming from my dark corner and rushed over. “Knock it off!”, he whispered. So I poisoned him.

The syringe was between my teeth and it only took a second. No lights back here, and just as I  rehearsed, slid the needle in, right of the breastplate, and pushed down the plunger. The mixture of Drano of pet tranquilizer was more effective than I had imagined. Like magic. Now you see him breathing, now you don’t.

The night progressed as such. Actors stepping off stage, moving to the sides, where I would be, waiting with my needle. I had enough medicine for the entire theater, including the audience, but this was a modest production, I had modest ambitions. Even so, by act three it was Julie alone on stage, trying to finish the play with no one to answer her lines, finishing her own conversations. She never broke character and I never came out to deliver my line and signal the end of the play. Julie held her pose until the lights awkwardly dimmed to black.

FIGHT EVIL
Sam Drog

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