Kettle fills her tank up at the tap station as is her custom,
Sometimes to the brim and other times half or there about.
She has an operatic performance tonight and during the am as per usual.
Bubbles in her stomach, a little nervousness isn’t bad she reassures herself.
As she performs better under pressure in all circumstances.
Warms up and off she goes towards full steam.
This time around, an awareness of timing has dropped like an octave inside, that valuable last inhale before her crescendo.
Wait for it……that second or two of pure, silent anticipation.
R A P