Narrow escape… or is it?

The director-playwright lay under the raised curtain, surveying it to make sure it wasn’t creased. The manager had done that the night before. And again in the morning. But it didn’t hurt to check again.

Actors rushed around, muttering dialogues, rehearsing, buckling belts, fixing wigs. His eyes crinkled as he smiled to himself, proud.

Suddenly, he froze. His eyes widened as the curtain rod came hurtling towards his head.

He could only stare.

An inch away, it stopped. โ€œYou should be more careful, you knowโ€ came an unfamiliar voice from backstage. The one whoโ€™d become his wife.

He let his breath out.


I wrote this little story in July 2014. I found it in my drafts while cleaning out my blog, and I figured it was worth a polish and publish.

Glow

Ok hoot do the pink-orange glow of the predawn, as seen through the light curtains of a bedroom window.
Wellington, New Zealand, just before sunrise. #NoFilter

I wake to a glow
alien pink filters in
my window at five

Lights

Photo of a Pลhutukawa tree in full bloom on a street corner on an overcast day.
Pลhutukawa, also known as Christmas tree, is endemic to New Zealand.

Tiny Christmas lights
bringing joy to street corners
Pลhutukawa.