“Opening Night!” “One Night Only!” “Limited Time Offer!” “Use It, Or Lose IT!”
Screeching capitals in louder colours ablaze the marquee and walls of Knightsbridge Plains community theatre with the pure pride of a fellow who found a path.
Trevor wears a bright brown mustache and paces behind a thick purple stage curtain. He stares with drive, eyes twitching, at tattered and torn notebook pages of a poorly hand written manuscript.
“Must memorise! Must memorex! Remember VHS? Those tapes need rewinding…TREVOR YOU MUST FOCUS”
A chastise and a head grab, shaking of hair as face follows suit with Trevor’s tear ducts preparing to well. Panic. Fear. Shame. Small.
Too much? Too bold? Too little talent? Too many splashes of doubt patter over future visions of failure not confirmed while desire to run wells in cold feet.
Trevor steels. Trevor regroups. Trevor breathes. Lungs filled with confidence and calm, shallow laps at the ever growing sea of belief.
Trevor nods. Taking shaky hands to fabric, he tears the curtain from stage and revels in cavalier cadence before the audience.