Street Theatre (Micro Bookends)

Stage fright? He thought he’d exorcised it at RADA. In school, he volunteered to play sheep in the nativity so he could hide in the back and keep his mouth shut except for the odd baa.

He chose the roundabout for its bright lighting, there’s nowhere to hide. No reason to worry, nobody’s paying attention in this weather. Not yet, anyway. He arms himself with the props, launches into the monologue and after a dozen shaky words, his voice steadies.

He nails it like a pro.

But nobody’s paying attention in this weather. Nobody bothers to find out his name.

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