At the Landmark [HHC]
I couldn’t get it off my mind.
My friend had lent me a book about a theater I was headed to last night.
About how the theater was… different.
I entered into the plush palace, agog at the intricate paintings and carving. It felt like an Oriental palace in an Occidental city.
I checked my ticket again.
Balcony. Row C, seat 13.
I balked. That was the third row, wasn’t it?
Sure enough it was.
I uneasily took my seat. Just as the lights went down I felt it: a cold blast of air at my left shoulder.
I dared a glance.
There she was.
But she didn’t look malicious, as I’d feared.
In fact, she looked like she was settling in to enjoy the show, just like the rest of us.