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Rated: E · Prose · Music · #1844657
The Power of Music and Performance on Stage.
Looking out, it was difficult to see what was ahead of her.



Painfully bright lights interrupted the dull haze of the room, flashing in sequence. There was a heat that rose from the ground, not stifling but a warmth she gladly accepted. Sweat was beginning to gather on the skin covered by clothes, and that which wasn’t was relishing the red heat that held everybody together. For a moment, as she looked out, she saw how she was elevated higher than the small swarm of people in front of her. Her feet were planted on the less than solid surface beneath her, and she was able to look out over their heads. Occasionally she met their eyes, and instead of averting her gaze, she held it as long as she could. Something was passing through in the gaze, riding out on the rhythm in the air, the hot air. She gripped firmly onto the microphone stand in front of her, closed her eyes on the blurry sights, felt a new wave of heat rise under her skin. She heard the notes, clearer to her than speech, and felt them tangle themselves in her hair, dance on her fingertips and run over her arms. She moistened her lips, opened her mouth and breathed in the dense air, thick with melody and harmony. Out came the sounds more familiar to her than words and images. She sang, with the melody taking her hand and leading her out into the crowd in front of her. Weightlessly she danced among them, sang into their heads and moved into their bodies.

Music invades the soul; a most welcome intruder.
© Copyright 2012 Lisa Winship (lisawinship at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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