Writing Style 2: Draft 1 (unfinished)

A buzz of excited anticipation filled the chaotic theatre foyer. Eager children mithered their parents, tugging frenziedly at their sleeves, while the sweet, sickly aroma of confectionary drifted and danced through the air around me. Middle aged, theatre knowledgables huddled together in academic communion, sporting champagne flutes and fine beverages.

This was going to be my third experience of, "The Lion King", yet the fiery sensation running to the very tips of my nerve endings has never diminished or even lessened. Finally. The call we had all been waiting in anticipation for as a well-spoken voice burst through the tannoy, requesting politely for us to take our seats in the auditorium as the show was about to begin. As one, the entire mass of audience began to flock towards the doors. Frantic hole-punching of tickets, followed by the creaking and banging of people finding and pulling down their red, velvet covered seats sounded all around me as I shuffled through the oak double doors, and down the aisle to find the seat that I would take residence in for the remainder of my evening.

I tore open the bag of Minstrels on my lap and absentmindedly began shovelling them into my mouth, barely even tasting them. Wafting the smell of fresh paper, I opened my programme straight to the credentials pages at the back, striving to find people who had previously attended the same professional performing arts institute as myself.

Whispered apologies could be heard as the remaining dregs of spectators scuffled and squeezed down the rows of already seated people. I twisted my legs to the side of my chair as a large, wealthy-looking man and his wife, clad in fine fur bustled past me. A blanket of darkness covered the theatre as the lights dimmed, followed by the gradual diminuendo of excited chatter. After a moment of complete silence, I was immersed into a pool of powerful emotion. The infamous first line of “The Circle of Life”, sent an indescribable sensation gushing through my veins as a shiver rippled down my spine.

A spectrum of vibrant shades of red, orange and yellow twirled and danced across the stage. Despite having seen them twice before, I was amazed by the ingenious puppet costumes. Performing high, energetic stag leaps, the antelopes bounded around the stage, while the giraffes entered the stage with a sophisticated strut. I was utterly bedazzled.