Bringing Down the House - nirgle.net

Here's the thing. I thought I was letting it all hang out in relaxation, but it turns out I was standing in the centre of a large stage of some sort, eyes squinting under the floodlight of a thousand foreign faces. I don't know how I got there but based on my slightly elevated breathing I probably just walked out, no lines and no rehearsing or any preparation at all, just pad left, pad right, quietly to the small black dot in the centre of the stage that nobody at home could see. If there was something I was supposed to do, like put on a performance or a play or something, maybe say a speech, or make an announcement of some sort, I really couldn't recall, and like I said I thought I was sitting on a beach or in a hammock or something, but no, there I was, on stage, not nervous, but definitely lacking. I checked my pockets to confirm a lack of queue cards, and glanced stage right, stage left to find nobody in the wings. I looked up, nobody in the rafters, no signals from beyond the floodlights. Just a couple coughs from the back of the room, and a flicker of a light overhead in the chandelier once filled with a thousand candles the night Mozart brought down this very house.

So what else was I supposed to do? I shut my eyes gently and closed my fists, gradually upped my heartrate, expanded to fill the space I occupied, became extremely luminescent and then poof, just as soon as I had arrived I was gone, and people began filing out, apparently satisfied with what they had seen.