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update from sparkleup

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Madison Scott-Clary 2024-01-19 17:35:04 -08:00
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writing/post-self/marsh/018.md
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@ -1,10 +1,10 @@
A dull clang rang out from the dim light of the stage, followed by a sickening thump. The girl, looking no older than fifteen, sprawled, limp and bloodied, unconscious on parquet. A person stood over her, breathing heavily, spittle flecking their lips and madness in their eyes. They let out a feral scream and leapt high in the air, a length of pipe held over their head and brought it down with all of their might.
Right as it was about to land, the lights went out, leaving the entire auditorium from stage to doors in pitch black. In the darkness, the last of the shout was punctuated with another clang, a horrible crunch.
Right as it was about to land, the lights went out, leaving the entire auditorium from stage to doors in pitch black. In the darkness, the last of the shout was punctuated with another clang and a horrible crunch.
The play continued from there. The police showed up. The investigation was swift and decisive. The arrest was made. All of this in utter darkness.
Even at the scene change, though, as the lights came back up, as the foyer disappeared and was replaced with a courtroom done up all in wood, the scene for the rest of the performance, the puddle of blood remained on the floor, untouched and glinting in the stage-lights.
Even at the scene change, though, as the lights came back up, as the foyer disappeared and was replaced with a courtroom done up all in wood, the scene for the rest of the performance, the puddle of blood remained on the floor, untouched and bright red, glinting in the stage-lights.
At first, I thought it must have been a mistake, some stagehand forgetting to clean up the mess. As the play continued, though, it became increasingly clear that this was intentional. The attorneys deftly avoided stepping in the puddle, never looking at it. The judge never looked at it. The jury never looked at it. Neither did the bailiff or any of the witnesses.
@ -38,7 +38,7 @@ The skunk squirmed about in her arms until she was sitting sideways in her lap.
Dry Grass took the chance to wipe her face with a napkin swiped from the table. "I would have appreciated that, yes."
"You would have hated the original all the more! Ioan wrote it so that my body was supposed to stay on the stage instead of just the blood. When I said I wanted the part, ey changed it to be just the blood, even though it took some creative work with gravity."
"You would have hated the original all the more! Ioan wrote it so that my body was supposed to stay on the stage instead of just the blood. When I said I wanted the part, ey changed it to be just the blood so there was not just a kid's body laying on stage, even though it took some creative work with gravity."
I glanced back to the stage, realizing that it was actually canted toward the audience by a few degrees. Enough that we could clearly see the surface of the stage --- back to a matte black instead of the parquet that had been there before --- without it being so unnerving as to make us feel like we were going to fall towards it, or that the actors were going to fall into the audience.