Grabbing some peanuts from the bowl, Joe took in the scene around him. The café was small, but the thirty-ish people there were chattering excitedly. A podium and microphone were onstage, beckoning for brave poets to share their work. The lights were low, and instrumental music pumped through the room as people mingled. Glancing at his poem, Joe was nervous since he’d never read publicly, but he wanted to conquer his fear. Although his fingers trembled and he felt sweat on his brow, he couldn’t worry any longer, as his name was called.
Joe took a deep breath. Show time.
Joe took a deep breath. Show time.
