Behind the Fold

The midday glare pressed too hard against the open floor, so I retreated toward the thick crimson curtain pooling by the wall. I stood motionless in its deep fold, letting the fabric swallow the harsh light. At my boots lay a discarded black hair tie, coiled tightly like an omen. I reached down, deliberate and slow, hooking two gloved fingers beneath the elastic band. With a sudden snap, I looped it around a dangling tassel, pinning the curtain back just enough to carve a sharp sliver of shadow across the floorboards. The stage was set in quiet darkness once more.