In The Dressing Room

Caged bare light bulbs wash her face in a brilliant white glow as she puts on someone else’s face; a face she has come to know so very well. When the face is complete she will become her, become that girl, she will subsume herself, submerge herself in preparation for the even brighter lights of the stage.

By then her only worry will be whether he is there, sitting in the dark, watching, waiting, hoping that when the lights go out she will take that other woman’s face off, tissue by tissue, slowly becoming herself again, and return to him.

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