My Cardboard Balcony

In order to learn the secrets of an oyster's life, you must go undercover as an oyster. At least, that's what Professor Norman Steinbaker told me before he dove into the Pacific, dressed in shades and a black suit to conceal his identity. Last I heard, he had drowned off the coast of South Beach, Oregon. Maybe he should've just stuck to oyster dissections and fossil studies. This week's prompt was provided by Arden Roddie.

When I walked into the theater, it was empty save for Stephen sitting in the back row, staring into space. The stage had not yet been cleared of the last play’s set, and lighting equipment was piled in an awkward, dangerous tower against the wall. As I surveyed the scene, Stephen seemed to notice me and spoke up. “Mister Kramer said he’d break everything down tomorrow,” he said, as if he really believed it.