(Tin Person TF, statue TF, horse TF, balloon TF)
Stacie Soames couldn't wait until the end of play rehearsal. She had been pushed into joining the local theater group's production of “The Wizard of Oz” by its director (and her cousin), Veronica. And somehow, Stacie had managed to obtain the part of the Tin Man. Only she was going to a be a female version.
She was looking forward to the end of rehearsal when Penelope, the costume designer, was going to drop off her costume. Somehow this made the whole play/acting experience more real. Even though Stacie was twenty-six, she still often rued the fact that she had never been given parts in her school plays. The directors always used her for the pit bands or as an accompanist because she was such an excellent musician. This was nice and all, she always enjoyed playing the music. But just for once, she wanted control of the audience. She wanted to be up on stag
“Hide yourself,” she urged, but her voice sounded unsure, “no one can know you were here.” She rested her emerald fingers gently on her chest, though I noticed them tremble slightly. And then she turned sharply, hiding her face from mine. In a flash she’d disappeared behind a curtain. From a damp and dirty corner I watched as the Wicked Witch died. Her shrieks filled the room like thick liquid, so heavy it was inescapable.
“No,” I whisper, choking on my almost silent words. I realize then that what I’d said rang truer and deeper than I realized. She was the only friend I’d had that’d ever really mattered. Stronger and braver and tougher than I was able to comprehend. I felt the air leave my lungs and felt the resulting compression. Felt the tears burn my ch