The curtains were still, but beyond them the noise was a quiet buzz. I stood focusing on the floor, admiring how the toes of my shoes poked out from the hem of my sequin-infested gown. Actually, I was more interested in keeping my head under control. This night would be the first night in fifteen years that I would appear on stage, and all for my new album which I hhad been compiling over the stretch of my self-imposed “retirement.”
I could hear the impatient din. The crowd had begun cheering for me.
Well, it was now or never. I cleared my throat, swept back my hair, and motioned for the curtains to be drawn back. The microphone would be my best friend for the next hour.
Spotlights blinded me. I began sweating in my gown. Butterflies flapped around in my intestines, my heart fell into my stomach.
But I was home again.