Phantoms of a Past Forever Gone
Sunday again, another weekend almost at a close. Strange how the time slips by. While watching The Phantom of the Opera tonight, distant memories arise from moments once all but forgotten.
The stage play was coming to Brisbane for a short time and my high school drama class had arranged for us to see it. Even now as I think back, more and more detail is revealed to me: the giant chandelier rising from the stage, the old material draping over the glorious sets and being quickly gathered up by the many stagehands above. I can recall how the theatre felt while I was taking my seat and even who I happened to be sitting next to. We hadn’t really spoken out of class.
Where have all these memories been lurking, when up until a few days ago they were nowhere to be found. Below my range of perception, seemingly inconsequential to any of my minds wanderings, and yet they must have been.
Tucked away beneath the opera house, the dark phantoms of past experience reside, silently scheming for their reprisal.