Killing Me Softly With His Song

by gillis

The lights dim, a golden glow rises from the floor and sprinkles itself in star shaped patterns around the ceiling. The audience murmurs its approval as the soloist begins. Suddenly the inhabitants of the room are transported to a mystical land. Misty fog envelopes them, as the seaside story unfolds. Night after night, the same scenario plays out. The audience consumes the requisite two drink minimum and settles in warily. The soloist tries to keep it fresh by mixing up the playlist, but the discerning audience insists on the repetitive, expected, some would say, Wagnerian song cycle. Like Wagner, the soloist knows how to bring the drama, and like Sinatra, she also knows how to close a show, saving this, her signature song, to close the night.

Occasionally the audience sings along, but usually the soloist works alone. One lone voice singing a plaintive tale of innocence lost through the unrelenting drumbeat of time. So many unanswered questions. What might a dragon use sealing wax and string for? What caused Little Jackie Paper to stop coming? Was he breaking away from a co-dependent relationship – he was always the one sharing the “fancy stuff”. Perhaps his dragon friend was just a gold digging social climber. Or a crippled agoraphobe who lacked the ability to leave his home without a chaperone. And why is it that dragons don’t die? Could they be the key to unlock the fountain of youth? What about those molting scales? So. Much. Pain. The ageless themes of man’s inhumanity to magical creature on full vocal display. As the soloist sings the chosen song one last time, no, two more, but wait, it’s a three song encore night, the audience is finally sated. The soloist rises to the sound of quiet, rhythmic breathing and exits stage left.

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