Paris Concert

Paris Behind the stage, in the wardrobe standing in front of a mirror, I tried to fix my bow. A classical song played on a clock radio on the dresser next to the violin. Reggie entered happily.

"How's it going?"

"Good, trying to hang in there."

"Man, look at you, you look joli. That's a little French I learned last night in bed. That means 'great'!" I looked at him, shook my head, and laughed.

"I always look joli! As you've said."

"Yeah, yeah. Look at me, and then look yourself in the mirror."

We both looked in the mirror to compare ourselves.

"Carter," Reggie called. Then he paused.

"I'm listening.' "You look like me when I was your age."

We burst out laughing. Reggie bent over. We held each other's shoulders to laugh our asses off. Meanwhile, the classical song stopped.

"You're listening to RQP 93.9 AM, the English station with classical music. We have breaking news. We have just learned that flight 37 out of Los Angeles, bound for Paris, has crashed. We do not have any further information about this crash. But we will keep you updated throughout the day," the speaker announced.

Not again, my heart cried out. Why me? I stumbled against the wall. It was another horrible moment to fight off.

"Did you hear that?"

"Carter, Carter, calm down." Reggie tried to comfort me. I punched him away, kicking a chair. Amanda ran in.