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Perhaps it was my life as a drama geek in high school, or perhaps its my surviving romantic tendencies, or my general fear of light. But something makes me fall in love with the darkened theater. At the moment when the lights go down and the house goes quiet, anticipation rushes in to fill the void. We perch on the knife-edge between reality and possibility. I'm looking into bottomless nothingness, my eyes straining and peering, the world black. My sight is better than it's ever been, but all I can see is nothing.

Except the glaring red light at the corner of my eye, in case someone's appendix bursts in that lousy five seconds and they have to be able to find a door to stagger out of. Or something. Stupid red lights. Ruin everything.

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