Show.down

It was time. The curtains were raised. Seated in their carefully chosen positions, they looked almost stately in impeccable garb. Such a veneer of perfection, the last for the night.

The lack of harmony between them was hard to disguise. There was no salvation, and the performance had to continue even as no one played their part. Intermission offered anything but respite from the tension. Untamed and unreasoning, the beasts lashed out at each other backstage. On stage, it was grueling agony without a pretty end in sight.

When performance is such pernicious pain, is it time to part with preciously possessed perfection?