The Staged Exit

A heavy velvet sandbag doorstop had been shoved aside near the backstage threshold, letting the night air rattle the heavy metal exit. I gripped the thick canvas seam with both paws, planting my heels against the worn wooden floorboards. With two steady, deliberate tugs, I hauled the weight across the dust until it braced firmly against the brass kickplate. The draft ceased at once. In the quiet that followed, a single overhead spotlight beam caught the polished timber by my feet, marking a remarkably tidy finale for the evening.