"Sitting on the dock of the bay..." she sang. She let a little rasp into her voice to match the song. It was low for her tenor voice, but she hoped the sound carried out to the audience. It was too late to grab the mic. No one had said if they were allowed to. Neither the girl before or Deanna had. She kept her hand tapping to the music in her head as she let the song carry her away. She tried to look out at the audience. She couldn't see anything, but heard some cheers. They grew as she let her voice swell into the chorus and then the bridge. The audience carried her higher, then drop to silence at the end with the whistle, as close to the mic as she could get.
The last note echoed as her hand stopped tapping.
There was a moment of silence. Then the theatre erupted. Marilyn enjoyed the
