Comedy

I gripped the doorknob. As my fair skin gently touched the cold piece of metal, I suddenly felt an energizing shiver running down my spine. I carefully looked about, then gathering all my fortitude, I confidently pushed down the handle, and tenderly opened the squeaking door. One step. Another step. And I found myself inside an enormous building upholstered with prestigious furniture. Everything seemed divine, tremendous – my eyes were sparkling, my smile stretched from ear to ear. It was as if I had been transported to the heaven on earth. Euphoric – that’s the right word. I could feel the air filled with vitality, with the scent of pure, raw art. The line between the real world and fantasy slowly obfuscated, everything was vivacious, infantile and special. The vulgarity – imperceptible. I wished it had been permanent, so I could’ve had the honour to be lingering, to lose track of time glazing every and each aspect of the place with astonishment. However, I couldn’t.

            As imbecile as I was, following the rules, being an exemplary, I went to my seat after browsing around in the labyrinthine building. I sat down, then waited for the show to begin. I attempted to seem incredibly impatient, conspicuously checking my watch every second. I was hoping somebody would pay attention, somebody would ask what was the matter with me. But nobody did. I tried to repress my despair, to conceal my concerns regarding the outcome. And, somehow, I endured those few seconds of agony until the dark red curtains were drawn.

            Capriciously, I started to encourage the performing actors with enthusiastic applause, and continued it inexorably. I seemed to be the one and only brave enough to express my deep respect towards them. The rest of the audience just sat solemnly in taciturnity, showing absolutely no sign of devotion. I was jolly, and they were consolidated with dimness. They were frightfully silent, their eyes mirrored a kind of ineffable pity. I felt as I had been in the middle of a mass funeral, and I was the only one alive. A magnanimous, strong one, who appreciated talent, who was there to enjoy real art.

            Then it all began. The sterling performance we’ve all been waiting for. When I laughed, they didn’t. When they laughed, I didn’t. I got into a never-ending loop, with uneducated, insensitive people, who weren’t able to understand what acting meant. And, unfortunately, I felt like a fool, it was unpleasant only for me. Because I was alone, entertaining myself in solitude – while they were together.

            I gripped the doorknob, and pushed it down immediately, leaving the theatre behind. I found it funny. Others came out crying. Or was I so sad, I couldn’t even recognize the tragic nature of the piece I had just watched?

Herki Hanna   X. H