"And if that mockingbird don't sing..."

"May I sit down?" a heavy-set, slightly balding man asked as he proceeded to seat himself regardless of the reply, setting a briefcase down on the floor beside him.

"Knock yourself out" replied the young woman. "There's alot of tables around, any reason you choose to grace me with your presence?" she asked sarcastically.

"Indeed there is, two reasons actually. One is to compliment you on your singing and performance on stage this evening. You are quite talented, you could go far. The second is to ask a simple question." he paused and looked at her for a reaction.

"I'm glad that you enjoyed it, singing is my life, I enjoy it more than anything. But right now, unfortunately, it doesn't pay the bills. So what's the question? You want to hire the band for an event or something?"
He leaned back in his chair and let out a heavy sigh, as if to wonder if asking was such a good idea or not. He leaned forward and asked, "Would you sell your soul for a million dollars?"
The young girl laughed out loud. "I suppose you're the devil and I sign somewhere in blood and then you come for my soul a week after I get the dough?"
The man did not laugh nor react in any obvious way, "You see, I'm quite serious, I am a prince and have money, a lot of money, and I like to 'share', so-to-speak. But, in the same sense, I can't see just giving it away for nothing, so I buy souls. I have a piece of paper saying I own your soul and you have a million dollars. Seems fair enough does it not?"
She realized that he was quite serious in his offer. She could sure as hell use a million dollars, she could record her own music and not have to get a label to sign her.
She took a sip of her coffee and looked at the man. He didn't seem to look like some lunatic or the likes. He kinda reminded her of an uncle she liked. "This isn't a joke? You're actually asking to buy my soul aren't you?" she asked, thinking that she has read about some very wealthy people being quite eccentric, especially with their money, maybe he was one of those and this is some amusement to him.
"Yes, I am. I like to travel alot, so you'll have to let me know now and we can take care of this immediately." he replied flatly.
She tossed her arms out and replied, "Why not? I've got nothing to lose, this'll be fun! Especially if the bank actually cashes the check." She leaned back smiling, half in disbelief that this was for real and the other half that she may actually get a million bucks.
The man pulled out a folded piece of paper from inside his jacket and placed it unfolded on the table. "You sign here at the bottom, saying ofcourse, you are recieving the money in exchange for your soul."
He picked up his briefcase and opened it getting out a money order for a million dollars. He closed the briefcase and waited for the young woman to sign.

"You know, I don't believe in all of this, but it is kinda creepy." she said as she signed the bill of sale. She slid the paper over to the man and took the money order from him.
He smiled and reached out to shake her hand, "It was a pleasure doing business with you."
She shook his hand and laughed lightly, "It'll be a pleasure for me after I go to the bank."


A month passed and the now wealthy young woman had settled into a house, and purchased studio time to record her album. She made her way to the studio where the band was setting up for their first session.
Instruments were being put in their respective areas and the crew was almost ready. The young girl headed into the sound booth to check on the layout and space of the area. Just as she took a step up to the platform to check her microphone, she tripped and fell into the mic stand. A band member quickly came to her aid and helped her up. She took a nasty fall and the mic stand had struck her diagonally across the throat.

"Are you ok?" the guitarist asked.
"This hurts like hell." she replied rubbing her throat. "Just what I need", she thought, "a nice whack on the vocal chords on the first day of recording".
"How do I sound? My throat hurts, but I think it'll be ok to go on with the show, I can have it checked out later."
By this time the other band members had come over to make sure she was ok. "You sound good to me, but you'd better have it checked for real. Don't wanna mess with the pipes ya know?" smiled the drummer.
Several hours later the band finished up a good recording session, with several songs finished to their liking.

She waited a couple of days to go to the doctor because her throat just seemed sore, but by then she sounded like she was getting laryngitis. After examining her, the doctor took her to his office to explain her treatment.
"Have a seat" he said as he sat himself down at his desk. "The laryngitis you are seeing now is a symptom from your injury. Normally, I would tell you to take a couple of weeks rest, drinking plenty of fluids. But I'm not getting normal movement in the cords. I would like to take some more tests to see if you have vocal cord motion impairment. You may have injured the nerves. If so, we need to see the extent of the injury."
The young girl sat quietly, but with increasing worry. She finished up with the doctor and scheduled the tests.

A week later the doctor confirmed that the young woman had severely damaged the nerves in her vocal cords and needed surgery. There was no guarantee that she would regain her true voice back.

A young women walks across the room and goes to her opened window. She opens her mouth to scream, but can't. She drops to the floor and begins to sob.


In another state there is a gallery opening, featuring a rising young artist. A heavy-set, slightly balding man goes up to the artist after the show starts dying down. "I would like to compliment you on your painting and congradulate you on such a fine show. You are very talented, you could go far."

"Thanks! I'm quite happy with the turn out tonite, I sold a few of my paintings but we all know an artist doesnt make the good money till he's dead." the artist said laughing.

"You'd like to have money then?" the man said rubbing his chin as if in comtemplation. "Would you sell your soul for a million dollars?" he asked smiling.

The young artist laughed outloud......

© R.Lore

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