Living In The Dark
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The Sound of Mortality
I'm sitting at my desk (something I only do when I'm
babysitting ballroom dancers) and out the window behind me
stretches a view of Westwood Street. Two blocks down,
emergency vehicles have gathered around some unknown crisis
situation. Their lights are flashing, their sirens are
howling, more fire trucks and ambulances are arriving.
This does not necessarily mean that a major disaster has
occurred. My theatre is located kitty corner from both the
police and fire stations of our city. Patrol cars and big
red trucks regularly speed past our doors (occassionally
just because they can). And if a day is quiet, and the boys
have been sitting around wishing they didn't have to work
this weekend, when ANYTHING happens it's better than being
cooped up in the station so EVERYBODY goes.
Last year we had a gentleman who had just had heart surgery
feel somewhat lightheaded as he was taking a walk around
the lake outside. As official first aid attendants for the
theatre, my boss and I went out to monitor him until the
paramedics could arrive. An ambulance, two firetrucks and a
police cruiser came to the scene.
Just as I thought, whatever was happening down the street
has now been cleared away. Poor boys have all gone back to
the station. Maybe I'll pull the firebell just to give them
something to do.
Part of being
Is to keep on seeing
What the soul is freeing
Without just fleeing.