Nine Thirteen and Forty-One Seconds

I’ve been on this stage for, no.

I’ve been on this stage for maybe a full minute now.

On stage for, a day?

I was born here. Yes. I was born on this stage.

I was born, I walked onto this stage.

The light has always lived on this stage. 

I never saw it being born, but it saw me wander in a moment ago.

The Stage.

No.

I was here first, and then the lights clicked on.

Right?

I have walked the length of the room countless times. I have worn a path in the wood.

The concrete is cold on my feet.

Wait.

I don’t, no. Where am I? The Stage. I'm on the stage. 

I laugh and skip about, excited to explore this new space.

It’s in the shadows, I’m in the light. 

I cower and cry out. He was here!

The grass is moving in the breeze, a dark river of green. 

I move to touch that carpet, looking around.

Is it a stage? I’m on a stage, I know because there's a light, a big one.

There above me.

It’s not the sun, it’s cold light.

I wonder if the light knows where we are. 

I know where I am, I checked the door only a moment ago.

The Stage. 

I played over here many years ago, then I grew up and moved to this side.

The side of the stage.

I wonder how long I’ve been here.