Heath stood before his audience, bowing. They were silent.
He had prepared his show to the best of his ability, but still, Heath had hit a sour note. He wasn’t sure what he had done wrong, but they were absolutely silent, staring at him with their cold eyes. Nothing for it, Heath though, but to bow again.
He bent over at the waist, absorbing the disdain, the not-quite hostility, of his audience. How he longed for their applause, their adulation, but today was not to be the day.
With a third and final bow, Heath walked off stage.
His audience continued to sit there, inanimate. The stuffed animals were a good preparatory audience for tomorrow. Heath sighed, and hoped the people tomorrow were at least a little more forgiving.