The actors have all
gone back to their day jobs. The
audience melted into the suburbs and disappeared. Only the writer remains,
toiling over what could have been said better, and second guessing the timing. The curtain, however, has come down. It is over, except for a few random reviews
that still sting and fester within the stockboy arranging the green beans along
the shelf. He had practiced his lines a
hundred times. Many times in his mirror
and now again to the French-cut audience before him.
“You lack the
experience. You’re still green.”
The shopper pushes
her cart quickly around him, concerned the employee has gone off the rails.
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