'Lorelei Happened' by Jane Broughton, LISP 2nd Half 2021 Flash Fiction Finalist
People had been going missing for the last six months, ever since the Blue Room had changed hands. It was rumoured a honey called Lorelei sang there, for a specially invited crowd.
It took a bit of palm greasing but I finally managed to score a ticket. I settled into a seat and ordered bourbon, wondering what would happen next.
She appeared on stage glowing in a single spotlight. An emerald sheath dress moulded her curves. Sequins rippled like water flowing down her body. Her face was obscured by waves of frothy platinum curls but it didn’t matter. She sang and we were lost.
She sang of the sea.
Sounds ensnared us,
A cascade of liquid notes
Soaring, smooth, silky, we sighed and hungered
Tumbling down, captivating us, we found ourselves crying like children, bereft,
We were enchanted, yearning for the embrace of the endless green ocean.
Baptism, metamorphosis, oblivion, we didn’t know and we didn’t care.
Men left the room by the back door, their faces slack with wonder, bodies eager for immersion. I shuffled after them.
Shrill police whistles shattered the spell. There was noise and confusion, tables overturned.
I looked back but the stage was dark.