Maggie was to attend her favourite singer in concert at the opera house. The old theatre was a bit of a frightening place. The chairs were red, an aged patina, with stuffing falling out. Sound amplified in a strange way in the old opera house, and one could hear the whispers of voices, of bygone performers whenever the crowd went quiet waiting for the modern day songstress to belt out her next song. At the end of the concert, the theatre emptied rapidly until Maggie found herself alone, drawn to the deserted stage. Maggie traced the edge of the stage and when she looked up the opera house had altered.
Maggie opened her eyes to see the ancient theatre in all it’s splendid glory of luxurious newness. She was wearing a flapper dress and headband and the seats were filled with woman and men dressed in their best from the same 1920’s era. Maggie approached the stage, they were all clapping for her, the newest soul to be claimed by the haunted world of the old opera house. Doomed to spend eternity reliving the concerts that had taken place in this once opulent place.
The police found her lying dead on the stage the next morning.