Marionettes

Music begins, sourceless, in a lecture hall that holds a hundred. It’s no haunting melody, rather a song chosen seemingly at random. The music grows louder. A girl begins to sing along. Her mouth moves on its own, something within her forcing words past her lips. A boy joins in, and then another. Their faces are masks of confusion, steadily turning into fear.

Strings appear above their arms, reaching into the ceiling. The students begin to dance. Their feet move in time, their voices rise in volume. More and more students join in, strings yanking their bodies to match the others.

When the last student begins to dance, the first lifts into the air. She’s drawn through the ceiling, disappearing forever.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s