The Concert
Look Up! Look Up! They all shouted as I was finishing my last song. Here I thought they were all raising their hands in the air to cheer me on, but they weren’t looking at the stage. “Look Up!” They all cried.
So I looked up. It took my eyes a minute to focus. What I had thought was a spotlight on my for my performance, was in fact, something else.
What it was, I’m not sure of. It was hovering over the crowd and slowly moving in my direction on the stage.
Suddenly there was a beam of light right next to me and there appeared a person. He looked quite familiar to me. In fact, he looked exactly like me. Clothes and all. In his hand, he was holding a guitar. And it wasn’t just any guitar, it was my guitar. It wasn’t a replica, as my hands were now empty.
The bright light above the crowd and me disappeared and I was left standing next to myself wondering what was going to happen next. I believe the crowd was as confused as I was. Then I heard rhythmic applause begin from the back of the crowd which quickly moved its way up until the whole audience was cheering and yelling, “Play! Play!” as if I had planned this whole experience.
My doppelganger, if that was what he was, began to play a song I had just written but had yet to perform publically. Suddenly a guitar was back in my hands. So I decided to play along with him and broke into harmony. The title of this new song was entitled, “Who am I?” A fitting song for the occasion.
As we finished the song the crowd erupted into a cacophonous cheer, again reaching their hands into the air. This time it was for our performance.
My double came closer to me and whispered, “Thanks for letting me play along with you. I’ve been a fan ever since we were children. And since my ship was in the vicinity of this parallel universe during this concert, I couldn’t stop myself from coming on stage with you.”
I didn’t know what to say. Before I could respond, that bright light appeared again and I was not in the same place. I was on some sort of alien ship. An older woman, looking just like my mother, who had died over 20 years ago, looked at me and said, “I’m glad you got a chance to play. Now it is time for us to go back to our own universe.”
There was another flash of light and we were gone. “We were not in Kansas anymore,” I muttered to myself. As for my double, I guess he got what he wished for.
