Hollywoodland

kkaushal

Canada

Human mystery machine and recovering tea addict.

Message to Readers

This is a piece I wrote about visiting the theater during Shakespeare's time. The lines said by the actors on stage are actual lines from his play, Cymbeline.

The Pitiful Pit

July 3, 2018

FREE WRITING

1
    Just when I thought the putrid smell couldn’t get any worse, it hit me again with the force of a thousand thunderstorms. The theater in the inn’s courtyard reeked of stale urine, rotten vegetables and body odor that may as well have been a decaying corpse. The pandemonium bounced around the walls and spewed out from the open roof onto the streets outside. Amazingly, I could still hear the dueling between the dog and the bear even over the chattering and cheering of the people around me.
    The day’s story was a comedy, judging by the used-to-be white flag outside (a tragic brawl left the flag splattered red with sinful blood, how morbidly ordinary). The second my eyes met the magnificent heavens mounted above the stage, I knew my one penny was worth the entrance. I pushed and shoved through the crowd of grimy people until I got to the front of the towering wooden stage. I felt a chilling shiver dance on my spine as tiny damp paws scampered over my feet. A deafening shot rang from the tower above, silencing the crowd. The play was about to commence.
    Two gentlemen stepped on stage, both posh and proper and looking nothing like actors. I felt a fragrant, French breeze rush over me and looked up at the balconies. I furrowed my eyebrows at the young ladies fluttering their fans  as wildly as their beating hearts. God, how I loathed the rich. I averted my attention back to the stage and I heard the first man speak, “You do not meet a man but frowns: our bloods. No more obey the heavens than our courtiers. Still seem as does the king.”
    The play had just begun and I was already reeled into the story. The passion in their voices and gestures encompassed me in a hypnotizing embrace. I felt as if my eyes had left my sockets and drifted onto the stage. I was so lost in the scene, that is until an obtrusive shove knocked me back to reality and I snapped my head towards the stranger, ready to quarrel. His bloodshot eyes, greasy face and drunken smirk made him look so perfect for a merciless beating, but I flashed him a cocky grin of my own and turned my head back to the stage with gritted teeth.
Three other people had taken over the place of the two gentlemen. This time, a brassy looking boy-lady, a young ‘girl’ and a man stood before us. The pit got rowdier, hurling tasteless insults and equally tasteless bread at the actors who, due to the sudden chaos, stumbled over their lines, making a bigger mess. The rats below went ballistic, running after the food being dropped. Their scruffy fur and naked, worm-like tails brushed past bare feet, causing even more of a disturbance. And then, that oh so foul sound of a retch graced my ears, leading into a pus-like substance falling onto my feet. I slowly turned my head up to look at the same drunkard next to me. My fierce glare stabbed his pitiful soul inside, and I swung with the force of vengeance over my one penny wasted.    

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