The theatre is silent and in darkness, save for the Exit signs, gently pulsing a dim green glow across the big screen ahead.
She’s no idea how long she’s slept, but even as she searches for her handbag she knows everyone else is long gone. The place will be locked until tomorrow’s matinée.
She finally locates her phone… no signal. Damn!
A shuffling sound a few rows forward startles her. Is that the profile of someone’s head in relief against the screen?
The shape slowly begins to turn.
“Ah,” a deep voice rumbles, “you’re awake at last. It’s party time.”
Gulp! This is why I’m not an avid cinema-goer. I can fall asleep anywhere, anytime, except in bed, at night. Thanks to Rochelle for her continued leadership of Friday Fictioneers.