Immortal iridescent lights decorated the midnight canopy. No curtains made of clouds concealed them. André almost felt as though only a few years had passed instead of several decades when he looked at them. Yet there was little time to look at stars, for tonight was another of the many ‘Opening Nights,’ and he had a show to put on for those who might leave their [i]generous[/i] donations. 

Fanciful colours and decorations of showmanship would not have once been outside of André’s interest. Nevertheless, a life lived in without such had learned to ingrain itself into his mind and make it the norm. Inside his tent, the floor was half a stage and half a place for the curious to watch, whether they chose to stand or sit. Oil lanterns were primarily the source of lighting, hanging from ropes which were crossed from the ceiling and along the walls. 

Wooden shelves lined the back of the stage, supporting many dozens of finely detailed puppets, all which dressed in the fanciest of monochrome clothing. Many wore that which reflected the early 1900s. Others were garbed in finery resembling the Upper Classes of famous European time periods. In addition this majority there were others dressed much more uniquely. A few looked traditionally Far Eastern, while two were dressed in ceremonial military uniform, three or four resembled the traditional garb of the Middle East, while a party girl of the 1920s could be seen next to a ballerina. Still, none looked more intentionally modern than the first half of the 20th century. 

André stood at the centre of the stage, only a single of his marionettes had joined him. She was sitting crumpled on the ground, lifeless, just next to his right leg. The Puppeteer had been waiting for guests to fill in, until a sufficient amount arrived, he chose to remain still. After a significant number of individuals occupied the room he left his motionless stance. [b]“It’s time, [i]Marie,[/i]”[/b] he whispered to the puppet, before addressing the crowd. 

[b]“I welcome you to my show, dear ladies and gentlemen.”[/b] As he spoke André stretched out his right arm before bringing it across his torso for a bow. Marie stood up, imitating a curtsey in time with his gesture. When they were done, both stood straight, arms down and looking at the crowd. They were like this only for a moment before he took a step away from her and gave her a vexed look. She remained where she was, but turned to face him, tilting her head a little.

[b]“[i]Surely[/i] you can do better, Marie? Anyone can manage such a small gesture.”[/b] Her hand flickered up to her lip a moment before she swung it out widely. [b]“A dance? Truly, a lovely suggestion!”[/b] With a wave of his arm in the direction of the shelves, three more puppets jumped lightly to the ground. One strode the stage over to where Marie stood, while the other two walked so they stood only a short distance away. [b]“I think a waltz would be lovely, don’t you?”[/b] The four marionettes nodded. [b]“Excellent!”[/b] André made his way to the record player which sat some distance from his lovely puppets. [i]Aram Khachaturian’s[/i] [i]Masquerade Waltz[/i] was the piece he’d chosen. The music swelled and they began to dance. Just the two pairs at first. Then more, as others sitting on the shelves chose to join in on the dance. Eight pairs ended up swirling around the stage, timed with near perfectness to the music.

Most of André’s act comprised of his marionettes performing various types of dances or performing silent sketches. His finale was when he encouraged at least half of his dolls to get down from their shelves and run around the stage, interacting with each other in various ways. At the end of these exchanges they would all move to find themselves a partner. The music would become more prominent as they engaged in one final dance, usually another waltz. Meanwhile the puppets on the shelves would hold tiny little candles, sized just for them. After that all the puppets on the stage would give a bow before walking back to their spot on the shelf. Just when the guests seemed to be unsure if it was over, all the marionettes and André would give a final bow. 

[b]“Adieu!”[/b] The Puppeteer called as the crowd made its leave of the tent. [b]“Thank you for your patronage!”[/b] With a final salute he exited off the stage from the back and into the smaller adjoined tent. André was taking a personal intermission between his shows as there was hardly time to do so during the event. He sat himself down and opened a nearby bottle of Coca-Cola. Sometimes, it was nice to enjoy not being on the stage. However, this did cause him to think of things he’d been trying to not think of. While he was French at heart, that didn’t change the fact that the [i]Cirque de Noir[/i] was currently quite close to the place that had been his home for the longest. A part of him wanted to go back, just to see. [b]“Surely a bad idea,”[/b] he said to one of the few marionettes who had not joined his show. [b]“Non?”[/b] No one would be alive now anyway. They couldn’t, could they?

Meanwhile, Marie remained behind on the stage, holding a sign which read: [i]‘Monsieur André is Currently Away.’[/i]