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Mic

She stood on the stage, holding the mic in her left hand loosely. She took a deep breath as the music started. It was a steady beat, not too fast, not too slow. It had rhythm. She sang the first verse:

Every time I see you
My heart goes faster
Every time I think of you
I can’t get enough
Whenever I am with you
You make me feel better
I like what I see
When you’re standin’ next to me

I watched her closely, taking note of the way her soft curls caught the light, creating a gentle auburn haze around her head, and the way she ever-so-slightly swayed her hips in time with the beat.
I noticed the soft curves of her body, and the angular shape of her face.
I noticed the way her jeans hugged her body in all the right places, and how her boyfriend tee had a stain on it.

Her name was Misty, and this is what she was born to do.When you’re born to do something, and that’s what you do, you make something of your life and you make people remember you.If you don’t, you waste your life.

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