Mona stood above the patient, a white mask covering her face and her mind drifting off. She had been employed at Maple River Dental for over 20 years, and while she knew everything about her employers, she often felt they knew nothing about her. Mona was the weak silent type. Physically, she was thin and tall. Her almost albino features nearly faded into the beige walls. With hair too white to be blonde and too brittle to be beautiful, Mona looked older than her forty-years. That is, she would have appeared older if anyone had ever bothered to look at her. As it was, Mona was as close to invisible as a person could be.
Today was like every other day for the past twenty years. Dr. Cindy Fellomy was rushing from room to room, frantic to chip away at her patients' teeth. It was as if she were a little god creating and recreating the crumbling landscape in the planet of the mouth. Because of her godlike powers, she had gone a little mad. At times Mona almost worshiped Dr. Cindy for her pure energy. Dr. Cindy was one of those women who lit the room on fire when she entered, and left it as cold as ice. Despite this, (or more likely because of it) she had a difficult time retaining either her employees or patients for any amount of time. If anyone ever took any notice of Mona (and no one ever did), it would have been obvious that she was in love with her boss.
Today, like most days, Mona watched over her patient as the nitrous oxide began to take effect. This was her favorite time in any day, because Mona could become someone. No one was watching (at least no one who was aware), and she could crawl into their brains through the widening pupils of their eyes, the small narrow vacancy widening to let her jump into the adventures so impossible in her own life.
Mona had discovered this special skill thirteen years ago and indulged in it (as if it were a drug or a king sized candy bar) daily. On her first trip, Mona had fallen quite by mistake. Her patient at the time had been an elderly man, with quite awful bridge work. As he motioned for her to increase the amount of laughing gas, she leaned forward to note the size and shape of his pupils. As Mona drew closer, she began to reach out her hand to steady herself and realized that there was nothing on which to steady herself. She was no longer in the dentist's office, but in the backstage of a very small, long theatre.
When she got her bearings, Mona began to explore a little more. The backstage of theatre ran directly behind the stage and was about four feet wide and a hundred feet in length. At the moment, Mona was alone except for the sound that rushed in over the top of the stage wall. She began to creep slowly toward the apron, and looked out onto the stage. As soon as she grew near, a man dressed in 17th century garb grabbed her arm and threw her onto the stage, "Your turn lad. Remember, we are all merely players."
Though normally Mona would have been frozen to the spot, shuttering and shaking with fright, this time things were different. She strutted to the middle of the stage, and she began to dance. She became a whirling dervish, tipping and spinning, seemingly losing control if only to regain it in the last moment. Mona flung her limbs to and fro, her mind and body in seamless meditation.
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