As I walked onto the stage, I could feel the warmth of a hundred conversations rising from the audience as though the heat were enough to make them float. Walking on stage is the easy part; they know nothing about me, therefore they cannot judge me. I'm mostly afraid of people talking shit on me when I'm gone. After I've said my piece. Once I've left the stage. As I stepped from the shadows into the spotlight, I could hear the conversations rapidly begin to dry up, like the last swirl of water down the bathtub drain. Like the sudden dryness I felt on my tongue. I walked up to the microphone, and with every ounce of eloquence I could muster, I cleared my throat and muttered, "Umm..." Perfect. Great first impression. I closed my eyes and imagined my brother in the audience and how he would tease me afterwards and suddenly I came alive. I felt the unplanned words roll from my tongue and syllables smack on my lips. That hour was gone in a second. As I finished, I felt the intense heat come from the friction of clapping hands, warmer than the warmth before. Their applause set me free.
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
I'm nothing special.I'm just trying to get my thoughts out of my brain. Follow me at
paperfingersandink.tumblr.com Archives
September 2016
|