Double Theatre

This is theatre with a crystal chandelier, plush red velvet seats, and an amber carpet. The house is half lit. There’s a civil war battle going on here, a here both inside and outside, a theatre of drama and a theatre of war. I’m on horseback, a Union commander with saber, my troops battling the rebels all around this old theatre that is inside but also outside. It’s as if the red velvet seats are also the drab underbrush and trees of a forest. There is confusion and smoke. We’re loosing. The ladies sit in the front row before an invisible stage, twirling their parasols, caressing their jewels. Some Southern commander wins a victory over me. He’s a dandy. He battles arrogantly. My men are on retreat. After his little victory, he rides his horse to the ladies and dismounts. Begins to court one of them. They laugh in slow motion. Now, the element of surprise is mine, and I ride my horse down the flank and turn along the front row. The Southern commander doesn’t notice. All his attention is on the lady with the pale blue bow in her hair. They gaze into one another’s eyes. I approach at a gallop, saber raised. I can behead this enemy, but instead, gently, I slice the bow from her hair.