![]() He slowly straightens up and dusts his hands off. “Oh, wait a minute,” he grumbles, “this isn’t Caesarea, is it?” Sounds of laughter. He slowly turns to face the room and scans it with a long, unblinking look. ![]() “Put your hands together for Dovaleh G!” The man onstage still crouches like a monkey, his big glasses askew on his nose. “Ladies and gentlemen!” announces a tight-lipped man standing at the lighting console. People are still filing into the club, chatting loudly. Scattered laughter and applause from the audience. ![]() He takes a few faltering steps, trips, brakes himself on the wood floor with both hands, then sharply juts his rear end straight up. A short, slight, bespectacled man lurches onto the stage from a side door as if he’d been kicked through it. The audience slowly quiets down and grins expectantly. ![]() The thundering shout echoes from the wings. Good evening! good evening! Good evening to the majestic city of Ceasariyaaaaaah!” ![]()
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |