61 Hours

[agdhani.livejournal.com]

If you see this post, try to squeeze 100 words into the next 100 minutes.


#40 Village

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[agdhani.livejournal.com]

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It was exciting to stride through the crowd in a floor-length, form-fitting, sleevless gown of black leather and black metal mesh and on to the stage, like Venus rising from the sea in full view of the world, more skin visible then wasn’t but everything that was appropriate to cover was. She wanted to be risque, alluring, but with the purpose of this evening an important and special one, she did not want to be crass or crude or do anything that would cast shame over this night and its cause. She was grateful for John’s escort, and though he said nothing after the low, sultry whistle when she opened the door, she could feel the pounding of his blood beneath her fingers around his arm.

It was impossible not to feel centered, all woman, when he looked at her that way. And though Matthew was already gone, and would not have been able to see her, she wished he was here too.

There were a lot of people she hoped would see and hear her tonight.

John escorted her onto the stage, climbed down, and stepped back, but he did not go far. No matter how he viewed himself, thank God he had proven himself reliable.

Music filled the air from the instrumentalists around her, her first song a soulful, jazz inspired take on “Dream On”