Save Livejournal Month, Day 8: Walkmen

The first two rows were reserved for the finalists and judges.

One by one we were called on stage by Lemn Sissay, our names projected behind us. Every writer was so comfortable on stage, as if they’d done it many times before.

Finally, it was my turn. I walked up and gingerly thanked the audience. I read Walkmen. When I lifted my head for the first time, glasses slipping down my nose, I was surprised by the attentive faces. I even intentionally drew a laugh towards the end.

“Well done,” fellow finalists said amidst the applause when I re-joined them.