The Performance

Just a thing.

Standing onstage, I sweat slightly under the bright lights in my red dress. I stare off into the distance as my band director chatters to the audience about what an advanced choir we are. I zone out.

I start to think that I see my mom in the audience. “Mom?” I say to the dark shadow in the far corner.

“Mom?”

The reassurance slips away quickly off the seats and laughs. My only sole comfort.

“You ready?”

Zoom back out. I am in the school theater. My band teacher looks at us with a bright smile as he plays the pickup notes to the song.

“Ready?”

I brace for impact, and I watch as he waves his hand for the pickup.

I open my mouth and sing my notes.

The audience claps.

I go home.

I open the door and say, “Mom?”

She responds, “Yes?”

Looks like she wasn’t at my concert after all.