Poem: Open Mic Night Connection

She looks out at the darkness
Extending past the spotlights
Beyond she can hear chattering
Clinking cups and shuffling chairs
Impatient throat-clearing waiting
Taking a big step she walks out
Stepping out onto the stage

Short Story: Looking for Something

A hand with painted nails caresses the wall in the dark before finding the light switch. Fluorescent lights flicker on, casting the entire room in the whitest of white lights. No shadows tread under their radiance.

With swaying hips, her presence fills the sparse room that smells of sweet perfumes and sin.

At the far end of the space, antique furniture made by an artisan’s loving hand, arranged in a semicircle. There was a trunk of deep mahogany with crushed velvet lining, an ornately carved wardrobe made of solid walnut, a painted vanity splayed with beauty products, and a perfectly polished full-length mirror.

The keepers of her treasures awaited their mistress to explore their depths.