I stood out on the deck a few minutes ago. The sky, so very clear, was a liquid black… almost like the ink in my purple pens. The stars were bright; I could see the shadowy edge of the Milky Way and a planet or two–Venus and Saturn I think, but I would need to check. And the night peepers were singing their hearts out against the unusual stillness. Usually there are dogs barking, or neighbors’ trucks, or cars racing down the road… even the occasional owl or coyote in the distance.
Instead, it was quiet. Even with the songs of the peepers (be they tree frog, cicadas or crickets, I know not), the night feels silent. Like a curtain falling…
I think that best describes my feelings right now as this round of ROW80 comes to an end. The curtain falls… The set is being cleared for Scene II, but no one wants to get up and head out for refreshments or to visit the restrooms. We know it’s not a full intermission yet.
And so many questions are left to be answered. What caused the hero to stray from his quest? Will the maiden find her true love, and will they live happily ever after, despite the hero’s best attempts to woo her to his side instead? Why does the little dog keep running away behind that sparkling barrier?
We hope for answers in the next Act, but we know in our hearts that they will be transitory. Each answer leads up to a new question. But we don’t mind either. The process is where we find our pleasure, watching the chase, seeing the duelists en guard, even watching the weeping villain at the end…
So how did it go?
Great. I’d like to say “great” at least, though as my last check-in proves, things weren’t perfect by any measure. And I completely backslid these last few days on certain things, such as typing, so there is little to report were I so inclined.
I’m not anyway.
I’m just here, watching the curtain fall, a bit breathless… Who knew that Act I would be so powerful, so energizing… that every second would be spent at the edge of my seat wondering if perchance the great city would topple and the land be scorched raw by the carelessness of the marauders?
And now we know that all have survived, some a bit scathed by the experience, but stronger, more determined to go forth and conquer…
Now I sit in my seat, squirm just a bit because the cushion is sticking to my leg. I wonder if I dare rummage through my purse for a peppermint and start to when someone a few aisles back coughs, dropping the bag to the floor and nearly spilling the contents into the darkness. The lady next to me kindly joins me in my search for my belongings. I thank her, and she smiles back. We’ve all done this sort of thing at one time or another, I realize. But I’m still horribly embarrassed by my foible. Still, mint now in hand, I resume my seat…
Waiting for Act,…I mean, Round II to begin.
Until then… read the playbook of characters here at the linky.