After the performance

The actor leaves his anger on a chair, a red coat folded with the lining out. The stagehand waits to sweep the painted snow; it will not melt and must be carried somewhere.

Backstage, a child asks if the king was sorry. The actor says, “He had a difficult choice.” The child repeats the question to the coat. Someone laughs, too softly to be kind.

Outside, we praise the subtlety of the ending, its courage in refusing to decide. The child is quiet on the journey home. At traffic lights her face appears beside mine, held for a moment in the window's black. I start to tell her what the play was about. The lights change. I ask her what she thought.