The night was as busy as every Sunday. The establishment, which emulated a sort of old theater with velvety curtains in crimson tones and some armchairs of the same fabric, was full. Loud murmurs and laughter sounded without echo around the place. And in the background a soft jazz came out of the various speakers of the place, where the treble of the trumpet stood out among the voices of the public. This was a place of renown, famous throughout the city for having been the home of great jazz and blues artists. And now 50 years later, it was still hosting promising musicians.
Suddenly, there was silence. The voices seemed to have understood the queue and quickly drowned out. The already dim lights were turned off and the lighting in the center of the stage fell on the pianist, who began to play an almost dissonant melody with long pauses between chords that accentuated the harmonic mixes between the low and high notes in an exquisite way. The introduction was a bit long, creating a kind of dramatic ambiance.
By the time the light from the center stage fell on Morgana's curvy figure, it bathed her figure, which was wrapped in a pleated purple dress that highlighted the sheen of the fabric. She took the platinum microphone between both hands, flexed her body slightly around one of those long and lean legs, inhaled some air audibly, and began to sing: I don't want you but I hate to lose you, you got me in between. the devil and the deep blue sea. I forgive you 'cause I can't forget you, you got me in between the devil and the deep blue sea…
