SHORT FICTION
My Big Fat Day and Welcome to It
Short story about a prima donna by day, street superhero by night
First, let’s get one thing straight. I didn’t deserve it. Not in any way. Professor Cazzogrande was just being an ass.
My name is Mary, but I go by Maria because it sounds operatic.
You see, I’m trying to be a classical singer, but I have yet to be hired for any gig that pays me money. So far, my career has consisted of two leading roles with the Hudson River Opera Company, for which I paid them a total of $1,200. We sang both performances with piano accompaniment in the Saint Apollonia’s Church basement. We all provided our costumes, courtesy of the local Salvation Army thrift shop, and the scenery was built and painted by the eighth graders of Saint Apollonia’s Elementary School.
So far, that’s my resume — two operas with a tenth-rate pay-to-sing opera company nobody ever heard of, in a church basement with no orchestra, scenery painted with crayons, and thrift shop costumes.
To get somewhere with this opera thing, I also pay Mrs. Cazzogrande to teach me singing techniques. She was a well-known prima donna until she became too old, and her high notes started to crack.
