I floated across the stage.  I couldn’t see the audience.

This was the moment I had been waiting for, dreamed of.  Dressed all in black I took in my surroundings as I crossed the floor.

I took centre stage, I stilled and I looked outwards.  And then I waited, listening to the quiet hush of the theatre.  I breathed in the woody scent of the boards and the musky odour from the decade old red velvet curtains.

I opened my mouth and I sang.  I sang ‘my’ song like my life depended on it.  I felt the adrenaline surging through me as I let the words roll off of my tongue with ease. 

I finished with a crescendo of notes suited to my soprano voice.

I smiled at what would always be, to me at least, the closed stage curtain.