80 Tickets

Summer can be hot sometimes, I guess that’s why the seasons change. My first show in my hometown was a flop, a dud, a disaster, no one showed up but a few cast members. I wanted to stop doing what I enjoyed for a moment or two. I reflected on the lonely nights on that ship in the middle of the ocean, I reflected on my divorce that no one cared about. My mother warned me at an early age that the men in our family have to guard their heart. She told me that it’s our secret weapon that eventually gets us into trouble, at least that’s how I took the warning. Most of my uncles died of a broken heart. I spent everything I had on that show, I couldn’t even pay my rent. Although I failed my first time, I still felt the magic. Upset and on my last dime, I did what I loved to do: “sleep and dream,” in my dream an angel told me that the gift to create comes from inside, he told me to get up and try again. The angel’s voice was clear, he told me that it’s never the amount of people that show up, it’s the message, the will to keep the show going. The angel told me he would send me some people with the passion to sell 80 tickets. When I woke up the angel was gone but he gave me the energy I needed to get up and print out 80 tickets. The next day I met ten people, I put them in the cast and we were ready to make a miracle. We argued, we laughed, but we kept creating the magic for a good show no matter how many tickets we sold.
“So West, how much are you going to charge for the tickets?” James asked.
I paused for a moment, “Twenty dollars, with dinner and a movie, the whole cast splitting the earnings 50/50.”
The stars were bright, we put on a show, and the place was like a starry sky at night. There’s something about a dream that makes life go on, their’s something about a dream that makes the show go on. I think God speaks to us all, I think he loves us all. Every veteran, every lonely child, I know he hears us. Even when we do some of the craziest things. Everyone has a different show to put on, everyone has a different picture of God, some people just stop believing, but whatever angel came to me in a dream at my lowest point, he gave me a good genuine crowd and a good show. I didn’t even have to ask, God knew my heart the whole time, he was even merciful enough to send me some help. We inspired a crowd of 80 people to create something themselves. Eager to see the angel’s face, I fell fast to sleep after the show, only to dream of a hand written note that read: “If I were to show you my face then you would look up in the sky and see no stars at night. I would hate to give away the end of your show. I’ll see you when your run is over.”
The End,
80 Tickets.