Professionalism

``I don't believe it.''

``Too bad,'' Sally said as she adjusted Michael's tie. ``You know that it is the rule that we need to put on these things whenever there is a performance.''

``Rules, schmules,'' mumbled Michael as he struggled a little under Sally's deft fingers, ``I'm a damn flute player, so why do I need to put on something that is going to constrict my breathing?''

Sally sighed. Michael had a point, but then again not everyone was as portly as he was. The suit that he had on for the opening performance seemed as though it was tailored up for him when he weighed a good thirty pounds lighter. Years of bad food and lack of physical exercise had caused Michael to steadily put on the poundage into the frame that he was in now.

``Are you done yet?''

``Yes, yes. Now try not to move your neck too much.''

``As if that's going to be possible. Let's go!'' Michael ordered as he grabbed his flute case and headed for the door opening on to the stage. Sally turned around quickly and accosted her cello hardcase and followed Michael out.

The lights on the stage were glaring down upon the assembling orchestra as the musicians got themselves into position. Sally was near the rear of the orchestra by her instrument, while Michael was somewhere near the middle. It was going to be a wild night of sorts, because it was the first time that the orchestra had sucha grand performance in such a grand theatre. The performance had been sold to a full house, something that the conductor and the organisers kept referring to whenever they could.

Sally gulped as she quickly withdrew her cello from the hard case and setting it up in front of her music stand. The lights glared on---hot they may be, at the very least the glare helped masked away the rows upon rows of audience that were seated just below the stage. Sally was a seasoned player, but like all who engage the stage, some element of stage-fright was still present and she was glad of any help to mitigate that.

Once set up, Sally tried to find Michael from the crowd. Her hazel eyes scanned through the woodwind section and finally found Michael. His face didn't look too good, in fact it looked a little ochre in colour, a hue that is not often associated with that of a normal human skin colour.

`Michael knows how to take care of himself,' Sally thought as the conductor took his customary place and led the orchestra straight into the symphony for the night. Concentrating, Sally was soon deeply moved by the music she was playing and was concentrating hard on executing her parts flawlessly.

Soon, it was time for the flute solo in between. The conductor silenced the orchestra and signalled towards Michael, expecting a response. To his horror, he found that Michael had his face turned into a deep crimson as he struggled to get the notes out of his instrument.

Looking in horror, Sally gasped and dropped her cello, running towards Michael.

``You fool! Why do you sacrifice your life for the sake of professionalism?'' Sally cried as she loosened the tie constricting on Michael's neck.

(Based on an exercise generated by WriteThis - 28 Jan 2010 01:10:41)