Delores moran 1 Mimi Dey

3 mins.

Diva In The Night


Diva In The Night

by Delores moran 1 Mimi Dey 3 mins.

You are not the kind of girl who usually plays and sings music outside of unknown peoples houses in the middle of the night. But tonight it is happening. And you are not sure why.

OK, first, you are a musician, a thirty something, not unattractive woman for her age, who sings and plays her own stuff. Not that many people know you. Though you have tried to put your self out there for many years now, but with little, well actually, no success.

But that does not stop you loving your music and keeping on trying.

So what really happened tonight for you to end up in this spot, on this housing estate in front of the junior school you actually went too as a kid?

The truth is you have no real clue. All that had been happening to you before you arrived here was that you had been wandering through the warm summer night streets of this festering old town humming old tunes you wrote years ago and imagining your self playing one of your synths along with it.

At some point, whilst walking almost blindly along, you found your self in this place, and you stopped and turned to face a house with a low light shining through the window and some buff guy standing there watching you.

Well, you assumed he was buff, though you could only actually see the top half of him. Perhaps, subconsciously, you wanted him to be buff. But anyway, that's beside the point. He was there, that was all that mattered. And he appeared to be listening to you. Something of a first, that.

But something funny happened. You were in a studio situation with an open front, playing and singing to the guy, who appeared quite mesmerized by you. And you were surprised. So surprised. In fact, you are still surprised as you stand there performing to this captive audience of one.

You have already performed six songs for the guy, and you are amazed you still have your voice in tact. Normally it begins to fade after three. Actually you are wishing you could stop because you are embarrassed by the situation. It's like a dream and you know none of this can possibly be real. But you also have the sick feeling that it is real.

And now the guy is opening his window and leaning out and saying, "Your good, your very good."

And you want to thank him, but you can't seem to stop singing. And the entire scene is starting to do your head in. But you can't stop and you want to yell for help to the guy. But the only words that are coming out of your mouth are the words of the current song you are singing.

Wait, though, the man is gone. So now you are singing to your self. Story of your life, right?

Wrong, the man is back, his front door has just opened and he is on his way towards you. Plus, yes, he is totally buff. The sight of him is actually quite stimulating, but none the less, wrong. And you want to tell him to go back, go back before something really dreadful happens, like you actually end up sleeping with him and having his baby.

Not going to happen, you tell your self, vigorously, not going too...

But he is now in the studio with you, actually walking all around you, checking you out, it seems. Your face is scarlet with shame and you want the ground to open up under you so you can sink out of this madness.

He seems very excited.

Oh hell, no, he has just swept you up into his arms and is carrying you like a bride across his lawn and into his house. You are screaming hysterically inside your self, though outside you are still happily singing to this apparent sex beast, the monster that is carrying you has now become in your mind.

He has put you gently down in his bed and has joined you. and though you are still terrified, you have not stopped singing, even though you are now kissing, which actually feels very nice. But you want it to end. You really do.

Or do you?

The thing is, you have a guilty secret. Your still a virgin. And your terrified of pain, Which is why you have remained a virgin all these years. And suddenly you feel so ashamed. And all you want to do is cry.

But its to late for that, he is already performing the deed. And oh, surprise, surprise, there is no pain. Can it really be? you wonder.

Wait, wait, though, you have stopped singing. Why? And where has he gone, this new love of your life? Broken hearted and mightily confused about what has gone on, you are now trundling home alone. Your life in tatters.

You are now fast asleep, but you are having the strangest dream. You are singing to a buff guy, outside his house, in a studio with an open front. Weird...

© Mimi Dey, 2019. All rights reserved.


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