The Beast
We trod on egg shells
Until our feet blistered
No amount of plaster attention
Could mask our footsteps
Attention to detail
Attention to every conceivable event
Our bed sheets nightly changed
But we were not babies
Conversations were rehearsed
Over and over
We could not tackle an episode
Without a prior run through and plan
One word not in the script
A glass shattered
A body colliding with another
All the work of the leading man...
Copyright © Jo Hayton | Year Posted 2009
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