Matt Ernest didn’t mind it. It never badgered him, unlike some of his coworkers. They seemed to either ignore it, or frown upon it. It was something they never talked about, for it was too infantile, or so they said. The whole idea was so basic, so childish, that he didn’t have anybody to share his enthusiasm with.
Matt was never alone. Someone, or something, trailed him everywhere he went. Yet, it never spoke a word. It was a simple entity that followed his steps. It never gave up, and no matter what he did, it would be there for him. Sure, it hid in the shadows and it was only a murky outline that was hardly a friend, but he was never alone and that was enough. Every time he turned around, he could see it. The unfazed, glaring darkness that stared him in the eyes. It dawdled behind him, distorted in broad light.Sometimes, he could hear it scurry in the bushes, or feel it as it trailed him like a hooded figure in the crowd. Yet, he could never get a firm hold of what it is. At those times of doubt, it would always surprise him. The shadow would be broken by a flash of light. It was the only thing it die ever. Yet, it was enough. It was proof.
It pushed him onward. It gave him reassurance when he was alone. It motivated him for greatness. He turned a weakness into his strength. He used it, instead of it using him.
Now that he is ninety, he still sees it. It climbed the tree today, and peaked in through the window. It remembers him, his breakthrough role, and a few other hits that he had.
The bane of an actor was his strength.
He had a true ally in his shadow.
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