"So many questions that you'd think you could at least answer one..."
Michael adjusted his tie while checking his carefully created image in the mirror of his dressing as the overhead speakers quietly played out the chatter from Production's communications. He hadn't done something like this in a while and each time he did, it took another year off his immeasurable life span.
A bell marked his cue to head towards the stage, and have gave a final wink to his other-self before opening the door to a bustling passageway filled beyond capacity with hurrying and scurrying individuals varying in size shape color and species. This was his show, and while he was in charge, HR still let whoever wanted a job work there.
Michael Walked past a bank of computers as they dolled out calculations at an impressive rate, even for quantum processors, and marveled as the technicians' fingers flitted across slim metal keyboards to cue up music lights and even pull up the telemetry of airborne insects that might pose a problem for the actors on stage.
His ear buzzed a swift fingered and fleet footed intern planted the bud that let the director communicate directly with him without the audience knowing, and it switched on even as Michael neared the edge of the curtain.
"Michael?" The Director's voice, induced electronically as is his way hissed accompanied by small beeps and squeaks as the bud adjusted itself automatically for the best frequency. "Michael, I know you haven't had much time to review the script, but play it just as we spoke on the phone."
Michael nodded. He didn't have to respond vocally, he couldn't. The director was watching him, and a nod was all that was needed. The stage hand, a small mouse girl shivered before giving him a three count.
He walked on stage.
The lights were blazing and the set plain, but it didn't matter. Michael was on stage and it was time for him to perform.
"Attention, ladies and gentlemen." His voice echoed around the quiet auditorium, "Tonight, we would like to apologize."
Again, there was nothing but a quiet fade from the amplifiers.
"We are sorry that there has been nothing new as of late, but please bare with us as we try to make amends." Michael began pacing the stage as he spoke, "We have been attempting to reestablish order where once there was not, and now we believe we have finally found it!"
The director's voice cut into his ear, "Cut the 'we' crap dammit, this is not Shakespeare!"
Michael immediately moved forward and sat on the edge of the stage, "I have been through a lot, and now... I've finally found a place."
Again, the director's voice whizzed through the earbud, "Enough with the vagaries, give them the monologue, and try to give it a bit of dynamic internal argument."
Michael looked to his left, "I've come to call this stage home, and now... I finally found a purpose."
Michael looked to his right, "What purpose is that? Some kind of silly existential nonsense to help you sleep at night?"
Michael then looked out at the audience, "Perhaps, but then again, it's not healthy to not get any sleep at all either."
The Director chuckled, "Good one kid, now then... let's give them a dramatic finish."
Michael stood and dusted himself off as he turned and walked towards the back of the stage. He spoke quietly, and the internal microphone on his tie switched over so the audience could listen to the stage whisper, "But no... I know my purpose... I know my place... I know my name." The last word echoed into the silence and the stage lights dropped to soft glow while the red flood lights came on. Michael turned around and slowly walked forward, "I am he who knows no end, he who knows no time, and he who calls no one world home."
He stopped at the edge of the stage, the red lights outlining his shadow on the curtains behind him, the shadows of his features giving him an otherworldly visage. And quietly, so quietly the internal microphone strained to pick him up he said, "I... am the Storyteller."
The lights went out.
Behind stage Michael ignored the Director's praise as he tossed the earbud away and removed the tie heading back towards his dressing room. As he passed by people patted him on the shoulders and back, applauding his performance and cheering him on. He smiled. He loved being in the spot light, but hated to stay in it for too long.
Already people were setting up for the next scene, and Michael quietly mused to himself as he shut himself back into the dressing room, sitting down in his director's chair, "Just a one act play that doesn't end... but I... I am the Storyteller, and I will decide how this tale is told."
A bell marked his cue to head towards the stage, and have gave a final wink to his other-self before opening the door to a bustling passageway filled beyond capacity with hurrying and scurrying individuals varying in size shape color and species. This was his show, and while he was in charge, HR still let whoever wanted a job work there.
Michael Walked past a bank of computers as they dolled out calculations at an impressive rate, even for quantum processors, and marveled as the technicians' fingers flitted across slim metal keyboards to cue up music lights and even pull up the telemetry of airborne insects that might pose a problem for the actors on stage.
His ear buzzed a swift fingered and fleet footed intern planted the bud that let the director communicate directly with him without the audience knowing, and it switched on even as Michael neared the edge of the curtain.
"Michael?" The Director's voice, induced electronically as is his way hissed accompanied by small beeps and squeaks as the bud adjusted itself automatically for the best frequency. "Michael, I know you haven't had much time to review the script, but play it just as we spoke on the phone."
Michael nodded. He didn't have to respond vocally, he couldn't. The director was watching him, and a nod was all that was needed. The stage hand, a small mouse girl shivered before giving him a three count.
He walked on stage.
The lights were blazing and the set plain, but it didn't matter. Michael was on stage and it was time for him to perform.
"Attention, ladies and gentlemen." His voice echoed around the quiet auditorium, "Tonight, we would like to apologize."
Again, there was nothing but a quiet fade from the amplifiers.
"We are sorry that there has been nothing new as of late, but please bare with us as we try to make amends." Michael began pacing the stage as he spoke, "We have been attempting to reestablish order where once there was not, and now we believe we have finally found it!"
The director's voice cut into his ear, "Cut the 'we' crap dammit, this is not Shakespeare!"
Michael immediately moved forward and sat on the edge of the stage, "I have been through a lot, and now... I've finally found a place."
Again, the director's voice whizzed through the earbud, "Enough with the vagaries, give them the monologue, and try to give it a bit of dynamic internal argument."
Michael looked to his left, "I've come to call this stage home, and now... I finally found a purpose."
Michael looked to his right, "What purpose is that? Some kind of silly existential nonsense to help you sleep at night?"
Michael then looked out at the audience, "Perhaps, but then again, it's not healthy to not get any sleep at all either."
The Director chuckled, "Good one kid, now then... let's give them a dramatic finish."
Michael stood and dusted himself off as he turned and walked towards the back of the stage. He spoke quietly, and the internal microphone on his tie switched over so the audience could listen to the stage whisper, "But no... I know my purpose... I know my place... I know my name." The last word echoed into the silence and the stage lights dropped to soft glow while the red flood lights came on. Michael turned around and slowly walked forward, "I am he who knows no end, he who knows no time, and he who calls no one world home."
He stopped at the edge of the stage, the red lights outlining his shadow on the curtains behind him, the shadows of his features giving him an otherworldly visage. And quietly, so quietly the internal microphone strained to pick him up he said, "I... am the Storyteller."
The lights went out.
Behind stage Michael ignored the Director's praise as he tossed the earbud away and removed the tie heading back towards his dressing room. As he passed by people patted him on the shoulders and back, applauding his performance and cheering him on. He smiled. He loved being in the spot light, but hated to stay in it for too long.
Already people were setting up for the next scene, and Michael quietly mused to himself as he shut himself back into the dressing room, sitting down in his director's chair, "Just a one act play that doesn't end... but I... I am the Storyteller, and I will decide how this tale is told."