Opening of the Last Night

Overture floods sacred seconds as well-worn dread clings like a stale apostle before betrayal. Seat 2 in row N is my island confessional from which all lies are learned and recited. I sit patiently staring at the crimson curtain that hides all God’s sainted abominations. When it finally rises, will there be redemption, retribution or ultimate recognition? Lights slowly fade down in this hallowed auditorium where Omega eats Alpha and sleeps. Billowing velvet floats into night as a figure enters and silently stands center stage. He is my new past. A sentinel blurred, but certain. The show has begun.