A Night at the Opera

I’m trying a new feature consisting of very short, micro-fiction. Leaning to thriller/horror, I think. But could vary depending on my whims. I'‘m calling ‘em Quick Cuts, until I come up with a better name.

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William enjoyed the opera, as much - if not more - for the spectacle than the music.

He sat in the dark, leaning forward in his red velvet seat, transfixed by the outrageous depictions of deceit, betrayal, and, inevitably, murder. He smiled at the melodramatic mayhem that unfolded on the light-bathed stage. The absurdity did not bother him in the slightest; he loved the opera’s lack of reality.

He also loved realism. But that would come after the performance. William and his knife would see to that.