Performance Night.

The performance was phenomenal. I went there. A great crowd awaited me. The children awaited me with their icicles and with their black stares.

I decided yesterday not to fear the cold. Make the cold your warmth and embrace it and maybe your mind can make it your warmth.

The play was amazing, in my opinion. The Director didn't have much to say. He had nothing to say, being a frozen statue of warmth in one of the rows. The children piled into the seats and listened. The other members of the cast were all now like the children. Perhaps the cyan-faced one reached out to them, maybe they're just part of my imagination. All I know is they were excellent in their performance and they helped me so well in my delivery.

I enjoyed being evil. When I was to light the scarecrow on fire, instead the cyan-faced one appeared beside me, giving me a grin that was warm and loving, even while it chilled me to the bone. Then he pointed a finger at Mitch and suddenly, Mitch was a frozen statue in a silent scream. This continued for some time. The boy helped me along every step of the way. I felt in place as the witch. The costume was the icy dress that I saw before. It felt comforting now that I did not fear the cold.

Then the play was over. I thought I, perhaps, saw a glimmer of my parents in the back row-- no, they were two more children, sitting side by side. A girl and a boy. They smiled upon me with greater love than my parents ever gave. Maybe that was why the boy reached out to me. Maybe that was why I felt so cold.

It doesn't matter.

I need to go onstage soon.

We're having another encore performance. We perform, sleep, eat, and have an encore. It must be the sixteenth or seventeenth, but I don't mind. As long as I'm well fed and well rested I have little to worry about.

The show must go on.