The Red Curtain

I stare at the red curtain, my breath hitching every time my chest rises.

I can hear the voices from the other side, laughing and crying.

Wiping my sweaty hands on my victorian dress I look around and see

people all dressed in black, writing on clipboards and speaking into headsets.

This is the life we chose, the life we live.

The audience claps as the lights go down and I make my way onto the wooden platform.

The lights shine on me, lighting up my secrets for them to see.

The unheard music starts and I begin my song of sadness and joy.

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