The pressure was on; the pressure to be perfect, if there was any such thing, but my critics and fans didn’t want to hear about the reality of that fact. Closing my eyes, I mentally went through my song lineup, humming softly, sinking lower into the scented water as the herbs floated around me like a cloak. I was halfway between sleep and awake when I felt that familiar feeling that accompanied slipping uncontrollably into one of my dreams. Not now, please not now. If I could just fight it, I would be okay. The air crackled with untamed energy, pulsing through my body, making my fingers and feet tingle then go numb before my eyes snapped open to find me standing on the wide expanse of a beach. Thick lit bamboo poles protruded from the black sand. The sweet salt air cleansed my lungs, the azure warm water swept onto shore, kissing my ankles deliciously as my feet squished against the course, volcanic black sand. My shoulders slumped with defeat as I sighed; it made no sense fighting the inevitable.
