The dust hangs in the air like old applause, soft and stubborn. Your footstep echoes against cracked terrazzo; a single work light throws a cone of pale yellow over torn…
The house lights are still up, but phones are already glowing. Little rectangles of light hover above the seats like fireflies that refuse to wait for darkness. Someone scrolls through…
The wall stares back at you. Flat. Lifeless. A sheet of dull color catching the work lights in a way that makes everything feel unfinished, like a rehearsal that never…
The crowd hushes. Torches spit and crackle against damp stone. Somewhere in the dark, a woman whispers a line everyone somehow knows, even if they have never read the play:…
The light is low. Not theater-dark, but evening-soft. Somewhere a kettle hums. A chair creaks. Outside, a siren slides past like a distant violin. You close your eyes and there…
Light scratches across the black floor, a half-finished set leans in the corner, and somewhere a single work light hums overhead. Your cast is rehearsing their hearts out in secondhand…
The marble floor is cold under your feet. Overhead, a high skylight spills a pale sheet of light across statues that have not moved for centuries. Around you: labels, dates,…
A face appears from the dark backstage, half-finished. One eye circled in chalky white, the cheek streaked with vermilion, the lips only outlined. Overhead, a naked bulb hums and flickers,…
A single champagne glass tips in slow motion. Your set is glowing. Performers move through fog and projected light. Guests are barefoot on your carefully painted floor. Then someone trips…
The house is empty now. The ghost light hums in the center of the stage, throwing a thin pool of yellow across tape marks and scuffed paint. The air still…