Tiny Dancer

Somehow, by some miracle, you've landed yourself into a limousine with a woman who's well-known for her music. Whatever kind of music it is, it's a kind that you never knew could be so beautiful until you've heard her sing it. And now, although you can't even believe it as you experience it here and now, she's picked up a nobody like you. You don't know why, but you know she loves you more than any of her famous acquaintances. Her agent is on the phone with her, rattling on and on about her public image. Even you can hear his loud voice through the telephone. For a moment, he mentions your relationship with this woman, but the moment he does so, she hangs up on him. Without a word, she puts her arm around you and pulls you so that you're leaning on her. She strokes your hair as she looks out the window, watching passing cars streaking down the midnight road.

After a while, she knocks on the window to the driver's cabin. She reaches into her purse, pulls out some money, and hands it to the driver.

"Change of plans," She says, "Call off the performance and take the two of us to a hotel far away from here. Any hotel at all."

Notes

This story was inspired heavily by Elton John's song, Tiny Dancer. It's my favourite song by Elton, and every time I hear it, I imagine myself in a position like this. I have an idea for a music video, too, but I don't plan on making that happen.

Still, though, I think it's a nice and comfy little story.