A single spotlight illuminating the ravaged stage was all that remained of The Genetic Opera.

Red pooled on the virginal white floor and backdrop.

Three broken bodies, untouched, were the last companions this opera would know.

A devil, handkerchief in hand, for once was still.

A songbird, at last free, was silent.

A father, no longer haunted, was undisturbed.

Whispers of the long

Forgotten

Night of

GeneCo's Genetic Opera.

I've made my peace

All debts are paid

At the opera tonight.