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Kathy Murphy walked nervously onto the stage and peered into the dark auditorium. She shaded her eyes with her hand, trying to blot out the blinding stage lights.
“Pete! Pete! I thought told you that I wanted a brunette!” Kathy heard the producer yell.
“Bob! She’s good, I tell you. Listen to her read her lines and shut up for once in your life,” Pete Coons, the director, shouted back from the left wing.
“So she’s got a pair of big tits! That makes an actress?” the man shouted again.
“Go on, Kathy. Read,” Pete urged quietly.
Kathy dropped her hand and swallowed hard, trying to fight the feeling of panic that was making her stomach rumble and quiver with butterflies. This was her first big chance to get out of the house and into the theatre.
“Okay, angel tits. Let’s go,” the producer shouted out from the darkened room.
Fictional reading for entertainment purposes only.