Fiy3ro

The sky was a dark grey. Has been for several days now. People hoped they would catch a glimpse of the life supporting sun, but it’s all they were left with. Hope. Even though it was dark, there was no chance for rain. The clouds simply hung on the sky, their main purpose to hide the beautiful blue roof of the world.

Blake made its way, unhurriedly through the morning crowd. People were milling like ants, each and every one prisoner of their own existence, cell phones attached to their ears, breathing automatically, running from one place to another, standing in line in coffee shops buying their charger for the day. He considered himself lucky of having 9 to 5 a job, where he would be forced to sit behind a desk and do some crazy boss’ biding.

He was a producer in a theatre. Ever since he was a child he liked to create his own plays. He made friends however, and those friends would end up in his little shows. Being an only child was a relief for him in a way – no one to interrupt him from his creative process, no one to share anything with. Of course there were times when he felt lonely, but his friends more than made up for any sibling.

On his way to work, he stopped by a little coffee shop to get his usual herbal tea. The tea was his drug. Whenever he was sad, or sick, herbal tea was the antidote. Sitting down at a nearby table, he scooped up his book from his bag and started enjoying his morning in peace.

“Excuse me, is this seat taken? Everywhere else is full” a crystal voice asked.

Blake looked up and said in a stern voice “Yes, I’m waiting for someone”.

Finishing his tea, he stepped out into the street, let the ocean of pedestrians sweep him away. He reached the desolate building which claimed to be a theatre, the faded sign reading “Legion theatre”. At this time the building is empty, as auditions were held in the early afternoon. Blake grabbed a chair and sat down in the middle of the stage. It was his favorite spot. Here he could think, he could imagine the great hall full, excited people in the audience waiting breathlessly the new play, the actors running around behind the curtains, panicked because they can’t remember their lines, or the outfits were all wrong. He craved the commotion, the yells, the applause, the music.

He sat on his chair, gazing at the overhead lamp, emptying his mind, wishing for some inspiration from a muse who might feel sorry for him. He gazed for hours on end, but the only image that came to his mind was that of Angela’s.
The floor creaked, startling him.

“Is anybody there?” asked cautiously.

“Pretend” he heard somebody whisper.

Blake looked around, but the giant room was swallowed by a dense darkness, except the light from the ceiling.
“Pretend” came the whisper again.
The entire atmosphere was beginning to feel creepy. Blake’s little hairs on his neck were prickling and an overall sense of panic overcame him. Slowly he made his way to the door and exited the building, relieved to be out in the open again.

He never realized that the time has flown by, and it was already evening.

“Great, another day of not doing anything,.” he mutered to himself and made his way towards the little studio apartment he called home.

After serving dinner, he lay down his bed, determined to read a few more chapters of his book. After reading several, the book fell on his chest, as he was already asleep, fully clothed.