Sunday, April 21, 2013

Scattered Pieces

The chairs of the theatre are red. I walk out, it’s another movie I don’t want to watch until the end.

I do that leave movies half way through, especially when I go to see them alone. When I reach the exit sign I turn around to look behind me.

On the screen there is a fire, there is something wrong in the projection room and the fire burns in slow motion and I can see the different lines of the film, each square of picture. Sometimes you I hear the director’s voice end the scene. Cut and Print.

There is dirt and dust on the projector.

No one in the theatre seems to notice, everyone is quiet. A couple in the front row are pointing at what’s in the fire, covering their mouths from the smoke, wiping the heat from their brow. The start to look at me and point at what needs to come be salvaged. I went to university with them, they fell in love there and have been together ever since. I hardly recognized them anymore.

There’s a whole past burning in the fire.

I decide walk back down the aisle. I decide to walk into the fire. I find I can pull up a tray of canapés and have a snack, the catering boss gives me a note that reminds me all that I have learned being there, the people who were my friends. He said it’s ok that you ran away, I forgive you, karma is looking you in the face telling you how it could have been done.

That’s what I did I ran away, rather than stop and see what we could do I ran away. As I realized I ran away a fireman came and put out the fire around the kitchen and there was a kitchen where I could make my own canapés. Do my own cooking.

Beside the kitchen is the bathroom, the same one I cleaned every day for 3 years. My boss and I walk in and look at the fire. He takes a canapé. We are very relaxed. Said it never should have gone down the way it did, it was all backwards, but this is a piece of you, the piece you ran away from.

I ran away.

It’s time to bring these scattered pieces home.

The fire fighters put out the fire, so much of it is ashes, that’s what happens when you let your past burn, but there are scattered pieces to bring home and set in my new house my new life. I clean the tarnish off the copper of the old ship and the artifacts of the old museums. I remember that who I was is part of who I am.

I am catering staff I am an actor a reader a writer a houseperson a museum guide. They are all pieces of me, I need to accept them all in my life so that I can move on with being me.

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