Hope you enjoy today's story.
Born to Sing
The stage grip handed her the microphone. She stood in the wings listening to the host, paralyzed with fear, her hands sweaty. Hope I don’t drop the mic.
The M.C. was talking about her but she didn’t hear the words. Why am I doing this?
She heard her name and forced her legs to move. Her eyes scanned the audience. Omigod ... so many people.
The piano man played the intro. Panic engulfed her. This isn’t my song. She turned and he mouthed ‘sorry’. The horn player blew a ditty, turning it over to the piano man who began again.
She stared into the spotlight above the audience, waiting for her cue. She lost herself into the melody and the passion of the jazz piece.
When it was over, she bowed to a standing ovation.
Of course I want to do this. I was born to sing.
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