My Dear Fiona - Chapter 19 Elverhoj

I had promised Denise I’d come to all the rehearsals, not knowing how many they were going to have. Three hours in, watching the same performance fragments over and over, I was on the verge of losing my mind, and my bum was numb from sitting on stone.

“How much practice could you possibly need for an improv performance?”

“That shows how much you know about theater,” Denise commented, annoyed by the interruption, and turned around to face the cast. “Let’s take it from the beginning of the dance again.”

Oh, God, I don’t think I can take another repetition of this dance.

“I know what you’re thinking, Ethel.” My sister hissed at me through her labored breath. “If you have no appreciation for the arts, why don’t you prop up that boulder? It’s about to fall.”

‘Fall where?’ I thought, bewildered. We were in the middle of the street, and everything rested securely on its stone pavers.

My sister ignored me and started her dance again, a very agitated choreography set on absolute silence, which was supposed to engender the emotional waves of a Wagnerian opera, but with no sound at all. 

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