The Audition

It was a warm night in Paris. The reflections of illuminated barges swam up and down the Seine like unhurried sea serpents, passing cordially in the bloom of evening. Accordion music floated from a cafe window. Deep in the basement of the Palais Garnier, a light switched on.

Odille was a young mime, but she considered herself worldly enough. Nothing could have prepared her, however, for the terrible sight of her comrade, Richard, swinging gently in midair, his mouth slack, his black-and-white tie wrapped tightly around his neck. Odille ran forward, but was brought up short by a barrier of glass. Gazing helplessly at Richard’s white-painted, motionless face, she placed her hands against the glass and searched for the door. Richard’s glass boxes always had a door. Sure enough, her deft fingers found the seam, and hinges, at last seizing upon the doorknob. She pulled, but alas- Richard had added a heavy iron lock, and the door would not budge.

Whirling around, Odille scanned the room in a panic, and spotted a heavy fireman’s axe that she herself used in the “woodcutter” bit. Her mouth open in a silent shout of exertion, she swung the axe at the glass box, shattering it into tiny fragments, and with a second swing she severed Richard’s tie from its anchor point on the ceiling.

Richard’s eyes flew open as he hit the floor, clutching at his throat and gasping noiselessly. Odille sank to her knees, embracing him as he wept bitterly, and finally he drew a shaky, calming breath. Helping Richard to his feet, Odille turned to face the paunchy man leaning in the doorway. The booking manager ground his cigarette into the floor with his heel, and called over his shoulder as he left the dressing room “You’re hired.”

Prompt: Lock, glass, tie
Word count: 297