LIMBO

by Anastasia Plahotniuc

Many think it’s a haunted theatre. Some say they’ve heard a lady singing opera, but they never saw her even when inside. Others say that after the big collapse of society, it just stayed like that, unattended and rotting from the inside. It is not in fact haunted, however, due to the poor looks of the theatre, people's fantasies wonder about all sorts of places, making the theatre haunted with its visitor's terrors, as each one who passes through, leaves a certain soulless footprint trapped inside of it. The huge signs are not a warning about the truthfulness of these people's fears. It’s just safety measures put by the actors inside the theatre because it’s on the verge of collapsing, the actors are simply trying to keep people away from danger and Mortem. However, the public is misled by the sounds and the looks of the actors playing the act. Little do they know, these actors are nothing but their own projections of a somewhat far away bit of society that is still working perfectly fine. There is no one in the theatre. There are no actors. It’s people's despair and sorrow, their insanity and melancholy of who they used to be in the past, before the end. The visitors are no one but the actors who used to play in the theatre before they lost their minds. They are in a way, playing their own part now, only there are no spectators. They have come the full circle. The spectators became the actors and the actors became the spectators.