1. The Prologie
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Japra / Orchestral Pop / Classical Crossover / Musical Theatre / Adult Contemporary / Spoken Word / Narration / Jazz / Smooth Jazz

Lyrics Written by Maurita André.
Music Composed by Maurita André and Stephan Ahknaton.
Published by MA'M (Maurita André Musique) / JAPRA Entertainment Ltd. (Universal Music Publishing Ltd.).  

Produced and Arranged by Maurita André. Cello Arrangement by Ben Trigg.

Recorded & Mixed by Dennis Weinreich and Jon Moon at Sensible Studios, London, England.
Mastered by Andy Jackson at Tube Mastering, London, England.

Maurita André - Narration
Neil Angilley - Grand Piano & Music Director
Ben Trigg - Cello

© ℗ 2020 JAPRA Entertainment™.



It was a busy Friday evening in 1952, and a quiet, mousy waitress was working busily in a simple diner that overlooked the hottest and most sophisticated jazz club in town.

She was a shy, disheveled woman, practically invisible to the rest of world as they either bumped into her or passed her by. So invisible in fact, that despite her age, she had never even been on a date with a man in her entire life. And every night as she worked in that dim-lit diner, with coffee stains on her clothes and fatigue in her eyes; she found herself from time to time, gazing out that large glass window across the street to the well lit and plush jazz club.

She stared with intrigue and desire as the many expensive cars drove up each weekend to the red carpet entrance. The car doors were then opened while flashing lights and the clicking sounds of many cameras from the paparazzi trying to get their next headline could be seen illuminating the night sky.

Then the glittering gowns and tuxedo charms of the well known and famous, were seen strutting their stuff back and forth on that red carpet, doing what they do best, as they either entered or exited the jazz club.

As she looked at the clock, it was 10:43PM. The diner was closed, and her work shift had finally come to an end. But as she stared through the large glass window to that busy jazz club, just once more, before grabbing her scarf and overcoat to take the long walk home, six blocks over, to her tiny, cramped apartment, she could tell that on that side of the street, the night was still young, and it had only just begun…