Word count: 170 words
Edgar pounded the keys of the piano and slammed the lid shut. He kicked the stool, sending it clattering across the floor. Clara jumped out of the way as it bounced off the wall. Standing, his face full of rage, he pushed past Fannie and headed downstage.
“That is enough. I cannot tolerate one more sour note from your diva,” he spat flinging his arm in Fannie’s general direction.
“Edgar, it is a rehearsal,” a voice pleaded from a seat in the middle of the darkened theater.
“At this rate, you’ll be in rehearsal for years. No. I won’t stand for this. Either she goes or I do.”
“Edgar, be reasonable.”
Edgar turned and stomped off stage.
He was gathering his things from the greenroom when Fannie entered, closing the door behind her.
“Edgar, I know I can’t sing, not like her. But mother won’t let me go.”
“Stand up to her. Quit.”
“You know I can’t.”
The tears began as Edgar pulled her into his arms.
Keep on writing.
Jo Hawk The Writer