We sat in the theater, making light conversation with each other as we waited for the show to begin.

“What’s the name of this play again?”

“Lemme check… Arsenic and Old Lace.”

“Oh.”

And so ended an enlightening conversation that might have begun. I started to think maybe this hadn’t been the best idea for a second date.

Thankfully, before the awkward silence could continue to grow in intensity, the lights went down in the theater, the shadows slowly growing on the walls, and finally engulfing everything in their grasp.

And they came back, gently, slowly, on the stage as the actors began the show.

Two hours later, the encore was a part of history, and the house lights came back on.

Looking at the woman sitting by me, I smiled when I saw that her expression had softened, and she smiled back. Perhaps this relationship had a faint glimmer of hope left in it…