Flesh - II

She kept singing. She saw everything. How the crowd was warming up to their music, her voice. Some of them dancing freely already. How the lights played on their faces in this finely ornamented theatre with sky and stars for a ceiling. How her husband chatted up to that woman by him. How he was being his charming best with that woman. How her friends were enjoying themselves on stage. How the sound guys were in tune with their machines and controls. How the metallic contours of her mic was comforting to the touch. How an eager gang of high school kids were rambunctious like high-schoolers everywhere. How three friends from far corners of the world were listening to tradition shaped across centuries speak through simple instruments of rock 'n roll. With a smile on their faces even so whatever worries life must be plaguing them with. How he was sidling up to that woman surreptitiously. How she could lose herself in her art. Regardless of what he did. Regardless of what he would choose to do later that night. And she kept singing.

And then, she closed her eyes and floated to that Garden of Eden that she was only privy to. Where nothing really mattered if she tried hard enough. Where she existed just like that, with a tinge of sadness maybe, the vibrations emancipating her from things that had no place there. Things she had no awareness of right then. Intangibles that would soon invade her mind to torment or comfort. Until her next sojourn.