The last note hung in the air. Applause followed. The operatic diva preened, absorbing admiration, as the audience stood.
Bella clapped and sighed, caught between delight and envy.
A wizened hand grabbed her arm. “Wishing you were the soloist dear?”
“Yes”, she admitted, “If only I had the best voice.”
Bella’s voice grew pure and sweet, soon she was headlining concerts everywhere.
But as her vocal chords blossomed, her body shrank until she was no more than a voice by the fireside.
The old woman cackled in her ear “Wishes must be wise. Now you only have the best voice”.
Thanks Elsie! I'm thinking about posting some longer stories as well. Have you posted any work? I couldn't find any but would love to read yours too.
Wow these little stories are great Eleanor. There isn't very much of them but they say everything. I really like them. Keep going.