She sashayed through the door. She knew all eyes would be on her. The red satin dress she wore looked stunning with her fur.
Her black hair fell softly from a comb adorned with jewels. She fancied that her fate would be decided by men’s duels.
Her blue eyes sparkled as she turned to face the crowd. She knew not to speak yet. The cheers were far too loud.
She assumed all who came to see her were among the most elite. And like countless times before, they all rose to their feet.
She knew just what to do next. It would drive them all wild. She closed her long-lashed eyes and then ever slowly smiled.
With a white gloved hand she reached to take the microphone. It was then she realized that she was all alone.
Her memories, so vivid, had pushed today aside. But like all dreams that end well, a fitting future was implied.
Did her memories speak the truth? She told her story well. The proof was in her soft sweet voice as she sang, It is Well.