Post by Snappersforum on Jul 1, 2014 5:23:51 GMT
a dream I had
The gentle warm breeze blows what is left of his grey hair across his eyes as he unlocks the doors, which is a little odd as he is already indoors. But as the tired old doors creak and stiffly open he does not notice the breeze blowing past him and into the old theatre he has managed to procure for a talent show.
The theatre to his knowledge had not been used since he was In his 20’s and last showing a film with Lee Majors back in the mid 1980’s it had literally just locked its doors and been abandoned.
He smoothed his hair and walked into the auditorium closely followed by myself and a bald headed Scotsman (no kilt
) Vince the Scotsman is a friend of mine who asked me to help with the talent show as part of local festival I had started. Sorry I forgot to introduce myself. I am Liz a 50 something short fat grey haired woman with too much time to think since an accident left me disabled and the man who opened the door – well not sure he is clean shaven, portly and not much taller than my five foot two frame. He reminds me a little of my late father but not sure why. I do not know his name and he has not introduced himself as such.
“When is the show supposed to be happening?” I ask the grey haired man, who just continues to pick rubbish up and push the theatre seats down as he moves towards the stage – ignoring me or my question – it is not entirely clear if he is even aware of mine or Vince’s presence.
“WTF!!!!!!!” comes a loud voice behind me – causing me to spin round as a woman with a red pushchair enters the theatre knocking a coat off an office type chair by the doors to reveal a skeleton…………………………..naturally at this point I echo her shout of “WTF!”
The grey haired man has returned to the doors and is standing right next to me, so close I can get smells of old spice aftershave and pipe tobacco as he looks down at the rather anorexic occupant of the swivel chair before us. He curses under his breath as he picks the disturbed coat off the floor gathering it over his arm and pushes the chair and its occupant out of the now wedged open doors into the foyer area – so hard it roles right across to the ticket office banging to a sudden stop. Still he says nothing as he turns to continue back towards the stage. He acknowledges no one not me, not Vince or lady with red pushchair.
“welcome to middle age Vince and to the world of invisibility” I crack
“cheeky cow!” Vince laughs
I turn my attention to lady with red pushchair, her brown shoulder length hair in need of a wash and brush, I look into the empty pushchair wondering where the tenant of said chair is but before I even open my mouth to ask she asks “ what time does the show start” a voice behind her shouts 12 noon before I can even think let alone say the words I do not know.
Vince, red pushchair and I look toward the voice and see a crowd of people of all ages, shapes colours coming through the voyeur – chatting though not smiling and looking a little bemused as to why they are here. I catch snippets of their talk “ always wanted to be on stage” “wonder if Simon Cowell will be watching” “did I leave the iron on” “where’s me dinner” “still cannot believe Rolf Harris was found guilty”
Amongst the marinade of voices others were silent with an air of what happened and why and how to did I get here. I say marinade as I literally soaked all this into my being as the 40 or so people joined me, Vince and red pushchair in the theatre. Before I had time to work out what was happening we were all seated in the dusty auditorium looking at the stage now lit up with sunlight from some very large windows down the sides of the theatre that I had not noticed when we came in.
I look around me taking in the scene before me. Again I am struck by the wide variety of people but noticeably absent are children – not a bad thing as I do not known as a fan of child acts or children. The windows are tall and thin and line either side of the theatre, most are in need of a wash but all are stained on outside with saltwater stains which make me think of the ferry I took to Dún Laoghaire en route to say final good bye to my Aunt Audrey. With this thought the realisation of the fact that we were on a boat hit me and the acknowledgement of that many of the voices around me were Irish. It was my turn to look confused as to why I was here.
I can see you are confused by my confusion – I am Irish well born of Irish parents in England – I believe the technical term is of Irish decent or born under two flags.
The man with grey hair is nowhere to be seen now, but music starts from the stage as the audience go up in turn to “perform” each person or small group of people sing well mime or singalong to tunes such as “I did it my way” or “be happy” all rather depressing really though not as bad as karaoke.
During this show the boat seems to have moved, I feel the force of the waves as we appear to be crossing the sea though no engine vibration to propel the vessel. I do not for the life of me remember booking onto a ferry home, though to be fair I have been rather preoccupied of late due to health concerns, my daughter moving out and so on. That and a god awful memory of middle aged.
“Audrey……………..Audrey……………..wake up” the grey haired man is back beside me his soft Irish voice calling me. I must have been asleep for ages as he now has a goatee beard, I look up from my bed to my dad “come on Audrey time to go”
He starts singing as he takes my hand and leads me home, tears stream down my face as I realise I am going home for the last time and my Dad who passed over ten years ago is looking after me whilst my funeral song plays for the loved ones I have left behind.
“I see skies of blue, And clouds of white. The bright blessed day, The dark sacred night. And I think to myself, What a wonderful world. The colors of the rainbow, So pretty in the sky. Are also on the faces, Of people going by, I see friends shaking hands. Saying, "How do you do?" They're really saying, "I love you". I hear babies cry, I watch them grow, They'll learn much more, Than I'll ever know. And I think to myself, What a wonderful world. Yes, I think to myself, What a wonderful world.
The gentle warm breeze blows what is left of his grey hair across his eyes as he unlocks the doors, which is a little odd as he is already indoors. But as the tired old doors creak and stiffly open he does not notice the breeze blowing past him and into the old theatre he has managed to procure for a talent show.
The theatre to his knowledge had not been used since he was In his 20’s and last showing a film with Lee Majors back in the mid 1980’s it had literally just locked its doors and been abandoned.
He smoothed his hair and walked into the auditorium closely followed by myself and a bald headed Scotsman (no kilt
) Vince the Scotsman is a friend of mine who asked me to help with the talent show as part of local festival I had started. Sorry I forgot to introduce myself. I am Liz a 50 something short fat grey haired woman with too much time to think since an accident left me disabled and the man who opened the door – well not sure he is clean shaven, portly and not much taller than my five foot two frame. He reminds me a little of my late father but not sure why. I do not know his name and he has not introduced himself as such.“When is the show supposed to be happening?” I ask the grey haired man, who just continues to pick rubbish up and push the theatre seats down as he moves towards the stage – ignoring me or my question – it is not entirely clear if he is even aware of mine or Vince’s presence.
“WTF!!!!!!!” comes a loud voice behind me – causing me to spin round as a woman with a red pushchair enters the theatre knocking a coat off an office type chair by the doors to reveal a skeleton…………………………..naturally at this point I echo her shout of “WTF!”
The grey haired man has returned to the doors and is standing right next to me, so close I can get smells of old spice aftershave and pipe tobacco as he looks down at the rather anorexic occupant of the swivel chair before us. He curses under his breath as he picks the disturbed coat off the floor gathering it over his arm and pushes the chair and its occupant out of the now wedged open doors into the foyer area – so hard it roles right across to the ticket office banging to a sudden stop. Still he says nothing as he turns to continue back towards the stage. He acknowledges no one not me, not Vince or lady with red pushchair.
“welcome to middle age Vince and to the world of invisibility” I crack
“cheeky cow!” Vince laughs
I turn my attention to lady with red pushchair, her brown shoulder length hair in need of a wash and brush, I look into the empty pushchair wondering where the tenant of said chair is but before I even open my mouth to ask she asks “ what time does the show start” a voice behind her shouts 12 noon before I can even think let alone say the words I do not know.
Vince, red pushchair and I look toward the voice and see a crowd of people of all ages, shapes colours coming through the voyeur – chatting though not smiling and looking a little bemused as to why they are here. I catch snippets of their talk “ always wanted to be on stage” “wonder if Simon Cowell will be watching” “did I leave the iron on” “where’s me dinner” “still cannot believe Rolf Harris was found guilty”
Amongst the marinade of voices others were silent with an air of what happened and why and how to did I get here. I say marinade as I literally soaked all this into my being as the 40 or so people joined me, Vince and red pushchair in the theatre. Before I had time to work out what was happening we were all seated in the dusty auditorium looking at the stage now lit up with sunlight from some very large windows down the sides of the theatre that I had not noticed when we came in.
I look around me taking in the scene before me. Again I am struck by the wide variety of people but noticeably absent are children – not a bad thing as I do not known as a fan of child acts or children. The windows are tall and thin and line either side of the theatre, most are in need of a wash but all are stained on outside with saltwater stains which make me think of the ferry I took to Dún Laoghaire en route to say final good bye to my Aunt Audrey. With this thought the realisation of the fact that we were on a boat hit me and the acknowledgement of that many of the voices around me were Irish. It was my turn to look confused as to why I was here.
I can see you are confused by my confusion – I am Irish well born of Irish parents in England – I believe the technical term is of Irish decent or born under two flags.
The man with grey hair is nowhere to be seen now, but music starts from the stage as the audience go up in turn to “perform” each person or small group of people sing well mime or singalong to tunes such as “I did it my way” or “be happy” all rather depressing really though not as bad as karaoke.
During this show the boat seems to have moved, I feel the force of the waves as we appear to be crossing the sea though no engine vibration to propel the vessel. I do not for the life of me remember booking onto a ferry home, though to be fair I have been rather preoccupied of late due to health concerns, my daughter moving out and so on. That and a god awful memory of middle aged.
“Audrey……………..Audrey……………..wake up” the grey haired man is back beside me his soft Irish voice calling me. I must have been asleep for ages as he now has a goatee beard, I look up from my bed to my dad “come on Audrey time to go”
He starts singing as he takes my hand and leads me home, tears stream down my face as I realise I am going home for the last time and my Dad who passed over ten years ago is looking after me whilst my funeral song plays for the loved ones I have left behind.
“I see skies of blue, And clouds of white. The bright blessed day, The dark sacred night. And I think to myself, What a wonderful world. The colors of the rainbow, So pretty in the sky. Are also on the faces, Of people going by, I see friends shaking hands. Saying, "How do you do?" They're really saying, "I love you". I hear babies cry, I watch them grow, They'll learn much more, Than I'll ever know. And I think to myself, What a wonderful world. Yes, I think to myself, What a wonderful world.