Tuesday, February 28, 2012

And then I melted into the carpet and was never seen again.

After a break, all the women were called back to rehearsal. I tucked my water bottle under my seat, and flipped open my score.

And hiccuped.


Flushing, I pursed my lips and tried to listen to the music director discussing the rhythm of a particular section. We'd had issues getting the timing right and it--hiccup!--didn't help that the words were in Japanese. Meanwhile, I was trapped in the middle of a row of seats, surrounded--hiccup!--by the alto section on my left and the rest of the sopranos on my--hiccup!--right, with no means of slipping out quickly.

Or quietly.

I tried concentrating on my breathing; I tried not singing; I tried clutching my score to my chest like a blankie. My face felt hot and red.

For a minute, I thought maybe they'd gone away so I sang, "O ni! Bikkuri shakkuri--hiccup!"

Even the music director snickered.

And then I died. The end.