The First One

[djscman]

A darkened auditorium.  A lonely microphone on a stand, illuminated by a spotlight.  There is movement in the darkness, a figure slowly emerging.  As the man leans over, the spotlight irises shut, swallowing the man in black.  There is a thud that echoes through the room, past row upon row of empty seats.  Another heavy tap.  The man draws in breath, amplified, like wind through the woods.  The man speaks, low, lackadasical.

Testing, he says.  Testing.

But there is no one to hear it.