Short Story Contests discussion

Sing

"Start singing ..." As if my voice was a button, on, off, which amounts to be the perfect voice? The ungrateful awful toad. I wasn’t meant for music. Impossible his rigid stare. He cares I skip practice. He feels I was soprano. I'm torn between him and an awful warp. And then I stand out there, give my all, to the center of his attention. I would rather fly off than sing another tune. I would rather have a severe lump growing from my throat, which would even alarm him. "Now sing! ..."


(Sorry my story is getting long.)

I woke up in the morning and opened my window. As usual, there was the beautiful song of the birds. Each bird has a different song, but put all together, they make a beautiful harmony. A female barbershop quartet. They singing fantastically, but when the birds come to sing with them, it is a sound like no other. The birds continue their song till night.

I can do this I tell myself. one verse in a whole song... I can do this! I knew I had a horrible voice, but I was determined to join the church choir. And now everyone had to sing one verse by themselves for the Christmas program. One verse, that was it. I opened my mouth and my cue came in. Horror clawed at my heart as I heard an unearthly croak come from my own throat. I burned up and ran from the stage. No more choir for me...