Silence

I auditioned for the play. The cast list was posted: I didn’t get the part.
I had to get out of the lobby. I slipped down the dark hallway
out the door glowing red under the “EXIT” sign.
What now?

I had to get out of the lobby. I slipped down the dark hallway—
someone had turned the lights off.
What now?
I couldn’t remember my lines.

Someone had turned the lights off.
I needed to get outside in the sunlight.
I couldn’t remember my lines.
My fingers fumbled and found the door latch.

I needed to get outside.
In the sunlight my mom’s car pulled up.
My fingers fumbled and found the door latch,
cold like the bite of a sour apple.

My mom’s car pulled up,
the moment flooded back, stabbing,
cold like the bite of a sour apple.
How had I forgotten my part?

The moment flooded back, stabbing.
I had practiced so many times.
How had I forgotten my part?
The words flew away, bat-like.

I had practiced so many times.
There he was, waiting for my words, but
the words flew away, bat-like.
I couldn’t see very well in the dark.
There he was, waiting for my words.
He already knew the words—just needed me to say them.
I couldn’t see very well in the dark.
His eyes glowed through a patchwork of shadowed skin, expectant.

He already knew the words—just needed me to say them.
My heart, paper thin: fluttered, tore.
His eyes glowed through a patchwork of shadowed skin, expectant.
I couldn’t say a word, wondered where they had gone.

My heart, paper thin: fluttered, tore.
I auditioned for the play. The cast list was posted: I didn’t get the part.
I couldn’t say a word, wondered where they had gone—
out the door glowing red under the “EXIT” sign.