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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.
***
Flash Fiction Prompt provided by:
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