The sunlight's glare strained his vision, but sitting on that lonely park chair, he didn't care. You don't need eyes to remember.

In the chilly air of the fading sun, he reminisced. His memories brought him back to his glory days, his time in the limelight. He smiled as if he were on stage once more, the lights shinning brightly on him, his actions planned and deliberate, his dialogue deep and meaningful, and the audience watching his every move.

It was time for the first gag; not many laughed, but he'd have them warmed up to him soon enough. Make them fall in love with his character time and time again, make them feel sad, happy and elated with him.

Not even the cold wind blowing against his brittle bones could bring him back to the present now.

The first act came to an end. He's halfway through the show, further from the beginning and closer to the end. The prospect of a second act brightened his mood. He'll give it all his worth, as if it's opening night all over again.

And he does, with the precision and enthusiasm he exerts into every performance. He's never had to worry about "second night blues." He knows that when he's on stage, there was no way known to man that he could be flat - or blue.

The second act begins and with it comes the laughter, the joy, and the further complications. It also brings his favourite and least favourite part of the show, the resolution. The resolution when he gets his happily ever after. The resolution where everything comes to an end.

He remembers walking out for the finale, an exhilarating experience in itself. He grinned broadly - from ear to ear, in fact - as the crowd eagerly applauded him. He bowed and looked into the audience. Nothing could make him feel happier and as accomplished as he did than the faces he saw. The faces of a well satisfied audience.

The curtains closed and he opened his eyes, reality dawning on him once more. "Chookers," he said as the sun set.

*

*It's bad luck to say good luck in theatre and the term "chookers" is used instead.