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.
