The steps are bolder now, I think.

I just have to catch the tempo.

no. 3 (rummages through the pockets for more cigarettes) Would that I could practice in the dark. It’s easy to know what something looks like when its dark. Oh. It’s not so dark, some days. I always thought it was the lights that gave me stage fright but turns out I just haven’t practice enough. I guess I learned not to try to steer so hard and I got carried away by the breeze that looks in behind the curtain. Some remembrance of those quick steps comes back to me, but with less dread now that I am the one marking time. Still I used to know more than I do now. That’s what happens when you learn, you know. I guess I don’t feel now / like I wish I hadn’t then. Then maybe I could have spared you.

As it is, a voice returns with some slow words. Coffee would be nice but in these in between times I seem to only have time for hot water. Distance, you know (e=0.4). I am not sure what slings these thoughts around. At least with the spins you can see the empty bottle. (soft laughter from across the stage) I guess I deserve it. I’ll dance then to match my thoughts. I know you’re listening somewhere; it’s just hard with the lights so low. You’d think I’d be used to it by now, eh? But what’s another stumble, another splinter. The audience doesn’t care much anyways. I’m sure you’re tired of this sad waltz- I sure as hell am. A bit of whirling, a bit of twirling and grinning might get the blood flowing again.