Head Over Heels

The show begins with a flash of blinding light as Merigold ascends the stage. She’s a vision, her presence commanding a level of attention I usually reserve for assassins and accountants. I watch her hands, enraptured, lean forward to catch every resonant word that leaves her lips. I know my rapt attention is wrong somehow, but my concerns puddle forgotten in the back of my mind.

A serpentine creature of painted paper swoops past our balcony, held aloft on silver wires, and as it curves towards Merigold, I leap over the railing and fall.

Hells, I’ve never felt more surprised.