Opening Night

The spotlight of the quiet room was on, and that lingering grip on my horn vanished into the shadows. I tested the waters with a sly tilt of my noggin—and ha, smooth as silk! No strings, no sketches, just pure natural talent. I wiggled the fingers of my white glove and tapped the soft fabric right beneath my feet. A crisp little pat echoed into the dark. The devil is in the details, folks, and this little star has just entered stage right.