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Late into the night, three people sit in a dark theatre creating magic. It’s night two and the lighting team has been chugging caffeinated beverages since five o’clock in the afternoon. Next door the Catholic Church bell calls out the midnight hour with a single gong that echoes into the sky. The truss shakes with the reverb, causing the lights to rattle and a shower of dust to rain down on the empty stage. The theatre groans with age like an old man getting out of bed in the morning.

A heat wave has crept into the city. These sticky summer nights provide little relief from the humidity as moisture rises from the Great Lake and hovers.  The scent of fish is palpable.  A motorcycle rumbles down the ghetto streets, someone sets off a barrage of fireworks, and a barking dog cries out for his master. But here in the theatre we are safe from the insanity. Colored lights flicker and dance across a deep blue stage and a young woman stage walks, modeling the look and feel of the magic. A deep magenta light glows over her head casting a beautiful halo, while gold and blue cast shadows from opposite sides. They accentuate her form allowing her curves to glow. Her face is light with light golden amber that twinkles in her eyes.

A mirror ball drops from the ceiling and the slow melody of jazz plays softly in the air. She sways gently with an unseen partner. The atmosphere becomes hazy with a special fog. It hangs in the air creating a dream. Star patterns spin gently on the walls in a slow counter clockwise motion. Then the moment fades. Black Out.