Short story with no meaning.

                 The lights dimmed and the customers clapped their hands and stomped their feet as the curtain rose. The woman behind it was wrapped in feather boas, and wore a shiny head dress. She smiled and winked as the slow jazz music began to play. She raised the microphone to her elegantly painted lips and she began to sing a life changing melody. As she sang she slowly flowed around the stage to the pianist she rustled his hair, then she swept herself down into the audience. She took me by the hand and began to dance with me. We swayed side to side with the music her eyes twinkled in the spotlight. I settled back into my seat and she laid back down in her spot on the piano.

          -Harriet