I began the show as usual, starting with The Classic Romance of Hydra and Romaine, followed by our mother’s Tragedy of the Lost Trees. After a short break, I performed my own creation, The Dragon’s Flight, and was gratified by the audience’s shrieks and gasps. But I could tell they were anxious to get to the final act, so I brought the flight to an early finish, swooping my Dragon to its landing spot atop our caravan.
We’d dressed Mirror in a pale gray shift and a three-cornered hat like the one worn by most of the men in attendance. I walked the puppet onto the stage and turned it to face the audience, and a million tiny butterflies flew through my veins. I’d been performing my whole life, but until now, I’d never been scared. Then again, until now, I’d always been able to control how the show would go.