I Dont Remember Mama
... words were fleeting as fast as the patience of the awaiting audience. Through the deafening silence I could hear the sound of someone attempting to talk. “Lets see. Eh…. Um” stammered Nels as he hopelessly struggled to find the invisible words on the Rampage. The newspaper blocked the enervating gaze of the audience as the same way castle walls keep rampaging barbarians out. The stage lights now seemed brighter. The smell of sweat soaking my musty costume filled my nostrils. My vision was now only a red glow as the pistons and gears in my head recited the remembered pieces of my line. “It says that um.., she would as soon turn out a… good uh... soufflé as a new... short story… or… err…. she would find a new recipe as she would a short edition…. new… first edition!” Then it was over. “Let me see,” requested Mama as she reached out her hand to take the paper. This left nothing to protect me from the giggling audience. “Is goot… vaht is first edition?” At the end of...