On Broadway

Timothy Liu

The planes in the sky still half empty as ticket sales

plummet. At curtain call, Hedda Gabler dusted off
the gunpowder from her petticoats before thanking us

for coming, a show still in previews, uncertain if

the house would be empty or full come opening night,
the Emmys postponed though Access Hollywood’s

back on the air. The St. Petersburg Chamber Orchestra

trying to rebook, eager to risk their lives in order to
perforn Rachmaninov’s Vespers. So much rehearsal

wasted. So many bodies to recover. What was to be
must settle for what is—the Towers renamed “the Pile”—
Hedda Gabler better off dead than allowed to play

in boredom—a sure-fire ending staged night after night.

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