The reddish lights are luminously evident as the darkness surrounding tells its own threatening story.
As the final scene concludes I can’t help but think what sane man would write such a horrific ending that precludes the possibility of glory.
The dramatic theatre sits empty, but I patiently wait to see the face behind this tragic scene.
I will never leave this place until I find the man to help me understand what it all means.
This is not the first time I have seen one of his disheartening productions, and I wait anxiously for a formal introduction
His hellish laughter blazes down the brimming hallway as I continue to look for the double doorway hidden behind the dingy red curtain.
I choose the door opened by the others and angrily push through the crowd stomping my feet in agony.
My temper rises to levels of insanity as I wonder why they continue to praise such a tragedy disguised as salvation.
Temptation takes over as I get closer and closer. I continue to walk unknowingly as my hands get colder.
Should I let him look into my eyes like the others claiming he is the beholder?
When the question becomes transparent, I realize I will never leave this place until I look into his eyes and proclaim that I hold the all mighty pen.
I am the playwright.
Numbered and signed print
11 x 14 Black (1 1/8″) Synthetic Wood Frame
White Double Mat
2 mm Glass
White Cardboard Backing