a script
or: Which darn door? Scattered bodies not dead, but motionless, deflated and gaunt, meditating, praying, prostrating, imploring An icy wind of disappointment swirls petrified emotions across a barren, lifeless terrain In the near-distance, a megaphone crackles to life, From a minaret it booms Its huge bell lips inflict the sentence: "sin is calling for payment" The spirits of the motionless bodies shrink in the fallow light of doom and punishment Dried tears raise powder puffs Prophetically the megaphone hurls the demand: "the denomination shall be in tomorrows" The floor turns midnight and soaks in blood Motionless the bodies wail Slowly they come alive and writhe and cry Emerging from the void: a swarm of white, winged, heavenly minions bring dark chocolate to feed the bodies The chocolate soothes the emaciated, abominable sighs They cry and stammer: "we only have yesterdays and sorrows" The megaphone sarcastically laughs: "ha-ha-ha, then you are done and you will die" Painfully the bodies grow and rise and assemble In harmony, they proclaim their belief in a new idea and raise their thin arms to push out a scream "we are over your fearsome lies" In the resonant echo of their conviction they gather their wilted, hurting souls and walk away, hunched and trembling, but resolute Two doors appear Each has a sign one-third down The signs read 'More of everything' and 'Less of everything' Next to each sign is a small dancing devil Exhausted and confused bodies jump from line to line in front of the doors Clearly, they want more of something but not more of everything and less of something, but not less of everything Entering they find it is a devilish play There is only one line behind the doors Each has to define the 'more' or 'less' themselves The minions appear again serving the tired, tested entrants red wine this time The bodies relax and chatter The Nightmare is over Everyone seems fine However, subversively, another is on the way again.