There’s A Moon Out Tonight
Celibacy. The whole dancing on doors thing. You know.
My roommate, he doesn’t suspect a thing.
Nah. He likes to go around the city with me. On the quest for tableaus.
We start before dawn. Sometimes. When the moon nods off on the horizon, just before the sun shines. We look for doors. Surfaces to be our stages. Places upon which to perform. Where we can be Whoever We Please.
It’s easy to pretend, right? When it’s just him and me?
Who would you be, if you could assume an identity? And, all you had to do was find a door. Turn a knob. Push a lever. Step through to a different sparkle of a star.
That’s what I ask myself. Every time I climb atop another scavenged assemblage of wood to play another part. Who am I, right now?
I close my eyes. Imagine the moon. Let my brain waves move my feet. And imagine another door.
Opening. Somewhere. For me.
A fiction series. Long overdue. Because, you must be well-and-truly-sick of reading about my life by now. So, what happened to that door? A series of possibilities. I’ll explore one or several. If it was even a door I passed at an intersection on the way to an appointment. Read the first installment here.