by McKenzie Barham
Broadway is a very broad
thing indeed, Tal thought, watching sadistic dancers filling the stage below him.
The audience was empty, the broken stadium seating protruding like a spine
stripped of it’s flesh.
The lower classes and their obsession with fantasies intrigued him.
We sweep their stages and let them play. Until they die... and the cast grows smaller.
Tal shook his head, knowing what Rhiannon would say.
The lower classes and their obsession with fantasies intrigued him.
We sweep their stages and let them play. Until they die... and the cast grows smaller.
Tal shook his head, knowing what Rhiannon would say.
“They only perform to survive, stupid.”
He
found Rhiannon in the wings, her face frozen with painful colors. She wasn’t
happy to see him.
“Hello,
Rhi.”
Rhiannon’s
sharp breath gave her away, gave Tal hope, as she painted pictures to ask why
he’d come.
Tal
ignored the frenzied questions. “Are you well?”
She
stiffened. Tal reached out to touch her face but she grasped his hand before it
reached her. Tal gritted his teeth. He could barely ignore the ache in his
chest.
“Chamile’s
taken the throne.”
A
small snarl curled her silent lips.
“You
have to come back; we have to be there for her.”
Rhiannon
pretended to throw a crown from her head and spit upon it.
Tal
snorted. “What are titles? What is royalty? Just a random selection of genetic
material capable of feeding the masses.”
Rhiannon
pointed to Tal’s heart and shook her head. You’re
a true prince, she mimed. True
princes shouldn’t come to this hellhole.
“And
real mime’s shouldn’t have tongues,” Tal shot back. Rhiannon cracked a smile
and she looked human.
“Chamile
is working to re-open the children factories,” he said eagerly. “Rhi! It’s
everything we’ve hoped for… We have to go back.”
Rhiannon’s
mouth fell open.
Tal
took her hands. “There’s going to be children
again, Rhi, and-and not just children! There’s going to be babies, Rhi, think of it!”
“Babies,”
Rhiannon whispered, tears filling her eyes. “Oh, Tal…”
Tal
nodded, grinning ear to ear.
“I
suppose I failed here,” she said hoarsely, glancing at the rafters above them.
“All
the world’s a stage, Rhi. You just have to write the script.”
She
stripped off her mime robe. “And I’ll give it a happy ending.”
351 Words
Only another hour to enter the contest! I'm squeaking in. Thank you, Anna, for inspiring me to write a flash fiction. It's been too long. :)
Love, Kenzie
Find the contest here: http://yearningforwonderland.blogspot.com/2012/10/behind-curtain-flash-fiction-contest.html
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