When you go through the door from the upper circle to the boxes it’s like a portal into an overlapping dimension. There’s a short, enclosed corridor that’s strangely chilling. I imagine it’s crowded with ghosts and feel like an intruder. I tell them they’re welcome to share the box.
I once went on a theatrical ghost walk, though it didn’t include the Colisseum, but it seems most theatres have their persistent residents. There’s always something magical about being under a dome and the ballet habit is hard to give up. As someone who gets very attached to places, I like to believe there’ll be the option to slip back into this world for the occasional visit. Or even time travel back to the days of the Ballet Russe…