So I can bask in the glory.

I’m an actor. On a stage. In a play. About real life. My life. Others, too. A supporting cast. Made up mostly of my friends and acquaintances. The setting. Inside the wide, wide world. Wherever I happen to be. I’m in every scene. The play opened. In 1935. And here we are. Eighty years later. In 2015. It’s been a remarkable run. And a grueling pace. For me.  I’ve never left the stage. Been on. Round-the-clock. Twenty-four hours a day. No time off. Not even for holidays. I even sleep on stage. Go to the bathroom, too. No privacy. It’s all being videotaped. For me to watch. After I die. So the whole course of my life. Can be analyzed and evaluated. I’m so used to playing my improvisational acting role. Superbly. Even forgetting. That I’m on stage. Playing to an audience. Of one. The creator. Also known as god. Meanwhile, I’m holding my breath. Wondering. When the curtain falls. Will there be applause? Perhaps a standing ovation. Shouts of ‘Bravo!!!’ Endless curtain calls. So I can bask in the glory. Of a wonderful performance. --Jim Broede