Smashing Chandeliers

Standing on a stage, the lights are bright as they’re cast out on me. Everybody’s watching, waiting for the show to begin. For years I have played this part, eager to hear the crowd go roaring. But tonight is different in my bones. I can see the faces in the front row, and the outlines of people behind them. As the music quiets and it’s my turn to speak words that are never my own, I go silent. Everyone is looking at me and I am looking at them. I have nothing left to say. The words the writer gave me, have all dried up and I no longer can use them to protect me. The crowd laughs but then quickly becomes angry. They shout and scream and bleed their true colors with the ugliness in their voices. There isn’t much room to escape, no where for me to run. Untangled, I rip off all my strings and try to find a way to distract everyone. I need to find a way out. Then I remember the chandelier. I remember if I hold on tight to the rope as I cut it down, it could lift me up and I could break through the glass ceiling. So I do. I smash the chandelier and escape.

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