Yours are the sweetest eyes, I've ever seen
(Marchen, ten years ago, late February)
"My dear, you'll love it, absolutely love it!" The matron at my side prattles on. 'Not very likely.' I think to myself as we enter the lobby of a restored theatre. I look around at the extravagance and shake my head. So much in this world needs to be rebuilt, fixed.... a theatre seems like such a waste of resources. And truth be told, I hate going to plays and operas. So many better things to do with my time, and what if I'm needed somewhere?
"Come along Doctor, our box is this way." Madame Worthington tugs me up the stairs and towards a curtain. Every since the Widow Worthington took me on as a familt doctor, she seems to want to show me off. In gratitude for curing a fever with a grandchild, she deemed a night out to see a show was appropiate. I tried, I tried to beg off, but she would hear none of it.
So here I am, trying to fold my legs into a small, cramped space with an overweight, elderly woman clinging to me like I'm her suitor. 'Welcome to hell, population; me.'
"The Worthingtons are the major contributors to this theatre, you know." The widow goes on, looking about as if she were the queen, even waving down to a few plebians in the floor seats. "When the show's finished, we'll go backstage and invite Ms. von SacherMosch to dinner with us. She's quite the accomplished actress." I merely smile and nod. Three hours of boring warbling by a overdone prima donna, then lucky me, I get to have dinner with her.
'Shoot me now, please God, just kill me now....'
The house lights dim, and the orchestra swells, and I lower my eyes to half mast, wondering if I can fake looking interested while catching a nap. A cafe' scene, people in period costume, I actually close my eyes now...
"Listen to me I have beautiful dreams I can spin you
Dreams ro linger within you,
Close your eyes and we'll ride my carousel....
I'll spin you stories of lovers who's love used to fill me
and the lovers who will be
for you see love is one thing I do well......."
My eyes open of their own accord. That voice.....I sit up and stare intently at the source of that sultry, melodic voice. Dazzling smile, a riot of red hair, porcelin skin, flashing green eyes.... and that voice. It's wrapped around me, pulling me in....
I lean foward, rest my arms on the rail and my head on my arms, and just watch the woman on the stage.
"Come and wake me! Come be the love I can hold now,
storybook love leaves me cold now, show me the way to stop dreaming...
there is only one perfect storybook ending, that is the end of pretending...
that is the moment you say.... Love me now!"
She raises her arms with the music, joyous, and I swear, she looks right at me.
Dinner cannot come quick enough.
(Wanda..... come and sing to me)
"My dear, you'll love it, absolutely love it!" The matron at my side prattles on. 'Not very likely.' I think to myself as we enter the lobby of a restored theatre. I look around at the extravagance and shake my head. So much in this world needs to be rebuilt, fixed.... a theatre seems like such a waste of resources. And truth be told, I hate going to plays and operas. So many better things to do with my time, and what if I'm needed somewhere?
"Come along Doctor, our box is this way." Madame Worthington tugs me up the stairs and towards a curtain. Every since the Widow Worthington took me on as a familt doctor, she seems to want to show me off. In gratitude for curing a fever with a grandchild, she deemed a night out to see a show was appropiate. I tried, I tried to beg off, but she would hear none of it.
So here I am, trying to fold my legs into a small, cramped space with an overweight, elderly woman clinging to me like I'm her suitor. 'Welcome to hell, population; me.'
"The Worthingtons are the major contributors to this theatre, you know." The widow goes on, looking about as if she were the queen, even waving down to a few plebians in the floor seats. "When the show's finished, we'll go backstage and invite Ms. von SacherMosch to dinner with us. She's quite the accomplished actress." I merely smile and nod. Three hours of boring warbling by a overdone prima donna, then lucky me, I get to have dinner with her.
'Shoot me now, please God, just kill me now....'
The house lights dim, and the orchestra swells, and I lower my eyes to half mast, wondering if I can fake looking interested while catching a nap. A cafe' scene, people in period costume, I actually close my eyes now...
"Listen to me I have beautiful dreams I can spin you
Dreams ro linger within you,
Close your eyes and we'll ride my carousel....
I'll spin you stories of lovers who's love used to fill me
and the lovers who will be
for you see love is one thing I do well......."
My eyes open of their own accord. That voice.....I sit up and stare intently at the source of that sultry, melodic voice. Dazzling smile, a riot of red hair, porcelin skin, flashing green eyes.... and that voice. It's wrapped around me, pulling me in....
I lean foward, rest my arms on the rail and my head on my arms, and just watch the woman on the stage.
"Come and wake me! Come be the love I can hold now,
storybook love leaves me cold now, show me the way to stop dreaming...
there is only one perfect storybook ending, that is the end of pretending...
that is the moment you say.... Love me now!"
She raises her arms with the music, joyous, and I swear, she looks right at me.
Dinner cannot come quick enough.
(Wanda..... come and sing to me)