Narrative Incident
My fingers were quivering with nervousness that could not be stopped. The members of the Jazz Band were set up and ready to play. Finally, I had booked my first improvisational solo with SHS Jazz Ensemble. The seniors tend to be favored, naturally, so just having the opportunity was good enough for me. The song began and the whole sax section played their melodous part. It was an appealing, yet nasty rock tune that I knew I could go wild on. The measures counted down like seconds on the clock as my time drew near. Just before I stood up to unleash my screaming alto saxophone solo I entered a blissfully calm state of mind. The nervousness seemed to bleed away as my confidence in my own abilities took hold. I was Charlie Parker; I was Sonny Rolands. My mind was a paradox of craziness and calmness as I thoughtlessly played my instrument. My fingers just knew where to go. My mind was clear, but my hands still shook violently as I played. The end was in sight, but I wanted to continue that which I was absolutely mortified of just moments ago. I succumbed to the overwhelming logic of it all and ended when I was supposed to. There ended the "Screaming Alto Saxophone Solo"; it was over and I sat back down. My hands were still shaking.
