In a small bathroom fit with only a small tub where she had to bend her knees to fit entirely, a commode, and a sink did she sing. Her voice grew raspy over the years since she had modeled, never her true passion but it worked well for her. She was one of the models talked about in the past that didn’t worry about hair in her arm pits. She shaved them now as she sang with a cigarette dangling from her lips. The sound of song vibrated through the rose infused room with her strong vibrato’s.
She thought about the blue dress that she wore once. It was memorable by the color alone. She then remembered it merely as the blue dress. It flowed and shined. It embraced and slimmed. It contracted her diaphragm so she couldn’t sing, even if she had wanted to.
She sang now. She sang a song that had no meaning to anyone listening. The noise that beckoned through started from the thumping of her heart. Her heart that would soon fail her. She was only sixty five, yet she sang. She sang the song of her heart. The heart that would fail her. The heart that would fail her dreams of singing. The heart that caused her pain when her husband went away. The heart that was ripped out when her son declared his hatred of her.
Now she sang. But there were tears that accompanied the vocal strings which played. The steam rising from the tub relaxed her. She didn’t worry much on these things, as much as she loved that she had a husband. She loved that she had a son. She loved the two men in her life very much. They were no longer there. They didn’t know of this heart that would soon fail.
Sang she now did, as the heart couldn’t supply the vibrations. Sang she now did from the soul that kept her entire being. Her soul would never fail her. Her soul would remain happy. Her soul will carry on from this world of misery. Her soul won’t care if she didn’t shave her pits.
The singing stopped now as her voice cracked. The singing stopped now as she stared at the wall. The singing…
Ms. Dura Alivoix was a marvelous woman. Ms. Dura Alivoix was a Singer!
Posted on March 8, 2011, in Names, short prose and tagged caleb mertz, creative writing, french model, French Singer, heart failure, library, literature, short prose, singer, singing. Bookmark the permalink. Leave a comment.