Immortals

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Immortals

a mini opera

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A man walks into a world that is not his own. The violent daylight is reflected in his hungry eyes.

A woman slips into the backstage room. She pulls on her glitter-dusted nylons and prepares to open the show.

VOICEOVER:

What dreams may come

In the midst of prayer

To save you, lift you,

Strip you bare

What dreams are brightest

can be deadliest

Unless you handle

them with care

Brushing the frost of the stars from his leather jacket, the man slides out a knife and quietly kills a guard.

Fans and friends accost her, but the woman pushes them away, adjusting her hair and striding toward the stage.

VOICEOVER:

Dreams can feed you

Day by day

Dreams can kill you

As you sway

When sweet obsession

Sweeps you away

On your feet, now

It’s time to play.

The man looks to the skies and calls on alien gods.

The woman strips off her skin and reveals her sacred glow to her distant lovers.

VOICEOVER:

And if you walk in the shadows

Of kings and queens

You must wear their memories

On your mortal skin

The man walks into a palace of cultured silence and unforgiving marble.

The woman bathes in swirling artificial rhythm and returns the love of her devotees.

VOICEOVER:

If you would have them remember

Your deeds and your glory,

Then call to the gods

And tell them your story

The man tightens his grip on his walking stick and steps up to claim his place as king.

The woman slides into her first dance.

The man sinks into his second kill.

VOICEOVER:

Beware your dreams don’t overrun

Your mortal flesh and bones.

Beware your dreams don’t grow too large

For when you stand alone,

The woman twists and gyrates, hypnotizing the audience with her every move.

The man smashes a tall plaster god with his walking stick.

VOICEOVER:

You will rise and tower

Above them all;

You will be mighty

And they be small.

You will guard your dreams

From being swept astray;

But nothing is forever

Anyway.

The show is over, and the woman dances on alone in a pool of neon light.

The man towers over the third body, bathed in a pool of blood and plaster dust.

VOICEOVER:

Beware the calling of destiny

The great ambition of treachery

Beware the sweeper, the deceiver, the liar

- The lure of immortality.

The dance has ended. The woman walks to a gilded armchair and sinks into the velvet.

The kill is over. The man sits on a marble throne and covers his face with bloody hands.

VOICEOVER:

The sweeper knows when your time has come,

When your days are numbered down to one

Even the greatest are reduced to bones.

And when they stand, they stand alone.

~End~