Maya had agreed to read a short story at the garden gathering. At home, the words sounded easy. At the station rehearsal, her voice caught on the first sentence.
“I should give the page to someone else,” she said.
Ada asked what part felt difficult. Maya said she worried about losing her place while everyone watched.
They made a practice page with more space between the lines. Maya marked a small dot beside each place where she could pause. The conductor showed her a comfortable spot to stand, with the page resting on a low table.
Comet sat as her first audience. He listened without interrupting. Afterward, he told her which part he liked, rather than counting every stumble.
At the gathering, Maya lost her place once. She looked for the nearest pause dot, found the next line, and kept reading. Nobody needed the story to be perfect to enjoy it.
When she finished, the gardener thanked her for sharing. Maya noticed her hands had stopped shaking.
She folded the practice page carefully instead of throwing it away. It could help with another story one day.
That night, she read one familiar paragraph to Comet by the lamp. There was no audience waiting and no speech to finish. Just a friend, a page, and a voice that could take its time.