Мила Курушина (FCE)

History of one Cinderella (Short story, 2011)

I was beginning to fell nervous. Some hours remained to a concert. All had quarreled also nobody talked to each other. We had been preparing for this performance for a long time, but as always the nearer the performance date was, the less all were ready. Our concert opened the festival «Student's Spring 2010». It was honorable and responsible.

For me, by tradition there was a vocal and musical design of a concert. I had made everything I could. But there was one miniature - a musical parody – which was the least rehearsed. There it was necessary to sing, play an image, and dance. Most of all I worried about it.

The clock hands showed the long-awaited 7.00 p.m. The curtain opened. The limelight blinded my eyes. After that the concert began. The turn of this ill-starred miniature approached. I understood that I hadn't had time to change the shoes with an antecedent number, I just sufficed a microphone and I ran out to the stage in the shoes on huge hairpins. Before I had always rehearsed in the moccasins, because dancing on heels was so hard, especially on our slippery stage. My friends with horror observed me from behind the side scenes. What would be next?

Suddenly the soundtrack started to play. Then I started to sing, it was good as always. But things reached to dance and during one fine instant from me the shoe flew and departed somewhere in the first row, where the jury were sitting. Then there was a memory blackout. I came to the side scenes and I understood that one shoe was somewhere in the hall, the second remained on the stage.

Eventually I lost contact with reality. I waited for the concert end in a make-up room. Already with tears in the face for insult and a rage on itself. I heard a final chord and applause. The concert finished. It was time to search the lost shoe. I was about to leave the make-up room when the chairman of the jury stopped me holding my shoe in his hands.

- Well, Cinderella? Had hours struck 12 o’clock?

I blushed completely and was confused. Certainly, I murmured "thanks" and took the shoe.

The Cinderella never was my favourite fairy tale. But after that case it headed my chart of fairy tales.

Certainly, we hadn't won this festival.

But the chairman of jury had indeed appeared to be my Prince. We’re still now together. But it’s another fairy tale!

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