The Play

My husband and I, and another girl were in some type of play or production on stage. I think it may have been for an elementary school audience.  We were like an old Theatre Company from the 1600’s or something and using British accents.  We did the entire play so well, and the final scene Was two of us laying on the floor, looking at each other, and slowly touching one finger together, kind of like Michelangelo’s Creation of Adam except our fingers did touch.  

 
 
That was the end of the play. I wanted to raise my head up to see the audience but I was supposed to be completely still, I think for a photo to be taken.  Finally we got up, and they wanted us to do a dance.  So the three of us did some type of weird medieval jig type of dance on the stage. I was embarrassed but thought “What the heck I’ll just do it”.  Then I think we had some type of audience questions.
 
So, after it was all said and done, we were back stage unwinding.  One of the producers or coaches or something came up to my husband and I and said it would have been better if we had used British accents for the question session too, to make it more authentic. I looked at my husband and wondered how on Earth he would pull off a British accent on the fly.  I know he knew had to say “lobster” with the accent but otherwise….
 
I gave it go, and showed two examples. One normal accent and one cockney chimney sweeper type of accent. I told the man that even though we do a British accent it always ends up going Australian and then Indian or something. We couldn’t seem to control the direction of it.
 
Well it was all over now, and I went to get on the elevator to go home (Elevators never seem to work right for me in dreams).  Shoot I missed the elevator that had just passed, I should have touched the button a second earlier. No worry, another one came! I got on the elevator. After a while, I realized it was really dark. Then I realized I had forgotten to push the button! Ahh! I fumbled around and eventually got the “1” button and got to the main floor.
 
When I got out of the elevator, I was in my high school which didn’t seem strange. I went outside to get the bus home, but all of the buses were gone. I was so heartbroken, how had I missed the bus? It wasn’t fair.. I was doing everything I was supposed to and I missed the bus. I cried and wandered around, wondering how I could get home. If I could at least get to Centreville, maybe my mom would come get me.  I looked around for friends who might have a car. I found one friend, Jenna who might take me there, but for some reason she couldn’t. I found another old friend, Valerie, and told her what happened. She seemed really sorry for me, but couldn’t take me either. She had a booth set up selling DVDs or something.
 
I went outside, where it was gloomy and sprinkling rain a bit. I saw my friend Kwame. I asked him where he was going and he said his apartment in Woodstock, near NBCC. I told him I had missed the bus and how upset I was. He said “That’s why I got the apartment! So I don’t have to worry about missing the bus, I can drive!” I asked him if he might be able to go the long way around and drop me off on his way home? He put his arm around me and said “Of course!”. Thank goodness!
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