Eyes in the Darkness by Dustin Engstrom
I had not stepped foot inside the Grande Dame in almost five months . The theatre had once been the stage on which I performed many of my finest performances . It was also the setting of my beloved ’ s accident . Where she met her untimely death .
I know not the reason why I chose the Grande Dame as the place to meet my former agent . It was like a compulsion . It visited and upset my dreams as of late . Victor told me he wanted to talk of my future and a new play that included a part that would bring me back to life . If I were to return to the theatre , I needed to face that room again , with its staggering volume and infinite gloom .
As I approached the building that late October morning , I noticed clouds above me forming ominous shapes and color , like blood dispersing in water . A production staff let me in through the stage door . Soon enough , I found myself pacing the lip of the stage . The theatre chilled me . The only light came from a ghost light standing alone on center stage . It truly did appear like a ghost , its whiteness a brilliant beacon in the otherwise darkened room .
I glanced at my watch , just perceptible in the half-light . Over a half-hour late . I couldn ’ t understand what could be keeping Victor . He was usually so punctual . After a few more lengths of pacing , I stretched my legs and sat on the edge of the stage , my feet dangling below . I gazed into the blackness of the auditorium , tried to imagine people in the seats before me .
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