Thursday, February 10, 2011

In the beginning was the stage, unfurnished, unadorned-empty.

Then there were clouds of magnificent turbulence, seething, spreading.

Then there was an audience of one, waiting, loathing, despairing.

But there came no act, or actor.

The play wasn't a thing of wonder, but rather an empty space.

Nothing of consequence happened.

Silence and storm reigned supreme.

We were waiting for....

us to emerge

Writing by Regina Stemberger

Photo "Shakespeare's Globe" by Stuck in Customs

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