"The Golden Tenor"

Charles Scott Leonard IV

He controls the moment as the spotlight hits his golden hair. Beneath his suit lie leaned, tanned muscled arms; hard and powerful, merely mocking men much larger than he. The face. Roughened by age and out of necessity, for without those lines, the face would be perfect and even angels would weep at the beauty of it.

But the edges are softened by the thousand-watt smile that flashes with rapid consistency as he willingly, and without protest, pours his blood onto the stage.

It is his song; his story. His words feed his heart; strengthening it. Encouraging it to continue for just one more show.

Encased in a melody, he tells his story, his voice so pure it brings many to tears, for they are certain that God only saves voices this beautiful for angels in His choir.

Note by note, he draws them in to him, his power so magical that they will not...they CANNOT turn away.

It is not until he has won them that he finally, mercifully, allows it to end.

And there...in the still, half-second of eerie silence...a heart can be heard breaking.

And then the spotlight dims; not to shield him from its harsh beams, but to protect THEM from his piercing green eyes. Eyes that beckon and demand total submission.

Will they surrender? Was there ever any doubt?

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