I volunteered with a theatre company up north. They wanted me for the chorus but I was really a lost star looking for my place in the firmament. That’s what I’d been led to believe—that there was room up there for everyone.
The play was going to be huge. Elizabethan costumes, production numbers, millions in the cast. Thinking I was important, a cast member asked my name. Tell me one name at a time, he said, and I told him all ten thousand to keep the interest going. The telling lasted a hundred years, though during that time the committee in charge of the firmament hadn’t decided my fate.
I’m still wearing my brocade tutu and dimpled hat and waiting in the wings for direction. The play and the firmament are carrying on without me, though I remain as excited about my prospects as ever ...