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Without a Trace by Catherine Weiss

She is having a great night.  She is wearing gold sequins. She is singing.  She is singing in front of people.  She is singing her heart out in front of people and she is singing Phil Collins.  She is just a little bit hammered.

She is arriving at the drum solo.  She is air-percussing with great enthusiasm.  She has closed her eyes.  She knows all the words.

He is taking a sip of his Delirium Tremens and shifting uncomfortably in his chair.  He is on a first date.  He is watching his date sing Against All Odds in a dimly lit karaoke bar.  He is watching her butcher what he considers a pretty all right song.

He is watching in horror as tears begin to slide down her face and as she is pointing directly at him, singing the words, “You’re the only one who really knew me at all.”

She is finishing the song.  She is bowing.  There is clapping but she is not paying attention.  Where he was sitting, there is just an empty space.  She is wondering if he has gone to the bathroom or to get another beer.  But to wait for him, is all she can do, and that’s what she’s got to face.

Catherine Weiss is a poet and author living in Northampton, MA. She lives with her cat, dog, and boyfriend—not necessarily in that order. In her spare time she enjoys watching bad movies, playing ping pong, and plotting an escape to the big city.
(Image © Flickr user electricnerve)