The two middle-aged women approached me at an outdoor flea-market today.
"You're OSS!" said one in an excited voice.
"Yes," I smiled.
"OMG!" said the other, "We saw your play last night! We both cried, didn't we, Sylvia!"
"Yes," said the other, "And we're both nurses, hardened nurses!"
"You must show this play everywhere in Canada!"
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The dressing room. Intermission. One of the cast plays the accordion, another cast member holds out his arms to me. We dance. And dance like wild things to the sound of the music and the applause of the rest.
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The mayor of my small town comes up to me at the meet and greet after the show and hugs me, tightly, silently, with his eyes glistening. A remote man, I'd previously thought.
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The film director is excited as she talks to me post-show.
"Can you work on a condensation," she says, "I'd like to film it for a short film."
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The yellow roses from a dear friend in Toronto. The yellow flowers in a planter from Daughter. The huge gorgeous arrangement of planted blossoms from the cast.
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The overwhelming applause. The curtain calls.
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I still can't believe it. Seriously. I feel like it all happened to someone else.
