I'm horrible
All the world’s a stage. And all the little people, in their nice little houses, with their nice little lives, forget they’re in a play.
It’s nice to remind them. The show must go on.
It’s especially riveting, when you have a captive audience. You’ve got them by the edge of their seat, or maybe more the collar of their shirt.
That’s when you don’t need to draw them in anymore. You smile, it’s almost genuine, and lean in close. The glint of the knife is almost enough to draw their gaze away from yours, but you’ve got ‘em. The pull is just to strong. And they’re just dying to know the plot twist.
The knife catches the light, putting the spotlight on your waiting audience. They hold their breaths.
“Want to know how I got these scars?”
It’s nice to remind them. The show must go on.
It’s especially riveting, when you have a captive audience. You’ve got them by the edge of their seat, or maybe more the collar of their shirt.
That’s when you don’t need to draw them in anymore. You smile, it’s almost genuine, and lean in close. The glint of the knife is almost enough to draw their gaze away from yours, but you’ve got ‘em. The pull is just to strong. And they’re just dying to know the plot twist.
The knife catches the light, putting the spotlight on your waiting audience. They hold their breaths.
“Want to know how I got these scars?”