This show was insanely immersive. Actors walked through the isles, the actors themselves fit their roles like gloves. The story of Pippin was a good one, and this company did it well, giving it a 60s aesthetic. But of every aspect of the show, there was one thing you loved the most. Berthe, Pippin’s grandmother. You couldn’t keep your eyes off of her, she was funny and talented and so smart in her comedic timing. And you could feel her eyes on you too, like she knew something. But in the end, the actor for Pippin rebelled, refusing to create the perfect ending. You found it absurd that someone would ever run away. But then, the Leading Player, with all the other actors at her side, spoke to the audience. “But… I know there are many of you out there, extraordinary people, who would gladly trade your ordinary lives for the opportunity to do one perfect act. And we will always be there for you, anytime you want us. Why we are right inside your heads, and we promise you sets, costumes, lights, and magic!” You were drawn in, leaning forward in your seat. Berthe stood right in front of your seat, and extended her hand to you. She muttered something short. And then, your vision turned white, like you were blinded by the sun.

When you wake, you feel your back against grass or something soft, and the air feels different than the slightly stuffy theater air. It feels fresher, like you were somewhere else entirely. When you open your eyes and sit up, it confirms it. When you lift your head, you see what looks like a 60s era hippie village, with tie dye and weaving and blankets on the ground and yoga balls to sit on. The sounds of bongos and tambourines fill the air, along with some sweet tunes. The first person who meets your eyes though, is Berthe. With her white hair pulled back with pink ribbons, red hippie pants, yellow shawl, and blue button-up shirt. Her eyes looked curious, but welcoming.

“Well hello there!” She chimed. “Fancy seeing someone new here for once.”