Learning of his death was hard to believe. Even harder to believe is that it was one year ago today. RIP Prince.

I wrote this short story upon learning the news. I am reposting it here in remembrance of the legend.

Rock Star - A short story

“Two Tom Collins, two rum and cokes, one with lime, one with lemon and a Heineken. Anything else?”

“I’d like a water please.”

“Of course. Water all around.”

The five women would nurse their drinks slowly, mixing in sips of water, marking time until they found likely admirers to buy their next rounds. Marcie had observed the efforts of this group of girlfriends before in their sparkly dresses, platform shoes, big hair and flirtatious ways. While Marcie didn’t exactly approve of their strategy, she had to admit it usually worked for them. Sometimes, the men they lured tipped big to impress, so Marcie didn’t mind the women’s slow consumption. Considering the growing Friday night crowd, her patience would probably pay off.

The shiny silver dance floor reflected the fractured gleam of a large, mirrored ball onto a small group of line dancers, regulars warming up before the club filled with amateurs who would just get in their way. (more…)

guitar“Two Tom Collins, two rum and cokes, one with lime, one with lemon and a Heineken. Anything else?”

“I’d like a water please.”

“Of course. Water all around.”

The five women would nurse their drinks slowly, mixing in sips of water, marking time until they found likely admirers to buy their next rounds. Marcie had observed the efforts of this group of girlfriends before in their sparkly dresses, platform shoes, big hair and flirtatious ways. While Marcie didn’t exactly approve of their strategy, she had to admit it usually worked for them. Sometimes, the men they lured tipped big to impress, so Marcie didn’t mind the women’s slow consumption. Considering the growing Friday night crowd, her patience would probably pay off.

The shiny silver dance floor reflected the fractured gleam of a large, mirrored ball onto a small group of line dancers, regulars warming up before the club filled with amateurs who would just get in their way.

Sometimes, when things were slow, Marcie put down her tray and danced with the group for a few minutes, kicking, spinning, laughing and clapping. Reveling in the release before she had to rush back and earn a living.

She waved at her friends on the dance floor as she made her way to the bar and smiled when one of them blew her a kiss. She still wore the smile when she turned and saw him standing there, right next to her station. Marcie hid her surprise when he returned her smile, staring directly at her.

She tried to pretend it wasn’t a big deal to see him there, in real life, as if she hadn’t just been bopping to his latest hit while on her way to work, hadn’t just seen him on TV a few days before. (more…)

Copyright 2024 M. L. Doyle | All Rights Reserved
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