Puppets in the Park (Open)

It was amazing how convincingly a handful of stolen milk crates and black sheets could pass off as a stage. Indeed, it was impressive that one single hobo could amass so many milk crates. The height of his stomach, the stage was like half a pyramid, one side jutting out in a step formation. At the top were several books he had found carelessly abandoned in a library that served as stage flooring. Set out in the park, in the middle of a wide opening on the path, Mat had to admire his own craftsmanship. A diet of sleeping pills and however many hours (days?) sleep had helped tremendously.

He hadn't felt this clear in some time.

The weather was proving to be his ally today, a nice crisp, sunny day. Luckily for Mat, it was bringing out the crowds. Some had even began to linger, hovering in small clumps, pointing and whispering. The final inspection of his stage complete, Mat double checked the contents of the duffel bag he had found carelessly abandoned in a gym locker room. Several pieces of shoe lace, with ready loop knots on each end. Two solid pieces of coloured glass that he had copied some days ago from a church stain-glass window. One red, the other blue. Also, a portable CD player that had been laying around, unguarded.

He would be avoiding that neighbourhood for a while.

Everything prepared, Mat took a long, deep breath. Picking up the bowler hat that he had found carelessly abandoned in a hat store, Mat rounded the stepped front of his curtained stage, and put on his winning smile. Then he found his clearest, most charming announcer's voice, with just a tinge of accent to pique the interest of the natives.

"Lady's and gentlemen, g'day, and welcome on this bea-uuuuu-tiful day! My name is Mat, and if you would kindly gather around, I would like to treat you all to a bit of afternoon's entertainment. Yes, yes, crowd around, but be sure to stay behind the chalk line there. Yep, that's fine mate, let the little one plonk down on the asphalt there, he'll be fine. Mat gave the small child who was seating himself on the ground a wave, before giving the dad a thumbs up. A decent crowd was starting to build, if only to see what he was going to do.

With an old practiced hand, Mat flicked the hat up his arm, landing it on his head, thankful he hadn't stuffed that up. "This arvo, I would like to give to you...." He held the moment, reaching up to touch the brim of his hat as he eyed the audience. "A puppet show."

Rounding behind the stage, he quickly knelt before the duffel bag. Willing his images to mind, he gave each plate of glass several taps. Almost instantaneously, his 'puppets' began to grow. Two glass figures, in minute detail, right down to the fingers and the faces. A boy and a girl. One blue, one red. Slipping the laces over the arms and legs, attaching the other ends to his fingers. Taking out the CD player, he pressed play. Scratchy classical music began to play, tinny and distorted from the small speakers. Picking up his 'puppets', Mat placed them laying on the stage.

Show time.