Standing Ovation

Blackout.
The cast runs offstage for one last scene.
I sprint to the greenroom, tearing off my hairpiece and
casting off my gloves. I pin on my crown for one last dance.

We wait,
hidden in the wings.
Watching the epilogue to our lives for the last
four months.
This is the end.

I adjust my crown, draw on the complicated swirls and color
them with magic.
I shake sparkles on my face, fluff my dress--
this is the last time I'll ever do this bow.

The ensemble runs on, grabs
each other's hands in rowdy
disorder
and bows, laughing and applauding.

The stage is empty:
it's time.
I smile, do a tiny skip-step
and run
delicately: like a goddess on earth
to center stage.
The bright lights from above sparkle on my face,
lighting it with joy.
I bow.

Standing ovation.