Sunday, August 14, 2016

Sunday Photo Fiction

Posted Sunday August 14



She loved to dance. From the moment she walked, she danced. I can still see her, all those years ago, in her little pointy pink costume, those wrinkled sparkly white leggings, and little silver ballet shoes; spinning, pirouetting, leaping...laughing. She had dolls, of course she did. But her dolls were little dancers. She would hold them at arm’s length and skip and whirl; then collapse with them in a giggling giddy heap on the floor!

We always knew she would have a career in dance. What else? She went away to ballet school, and we saw less and less of her. But we understood why it was necessary.

Her mother and I were so proud when years later we sat in the front row of the west end theatre.  We never doubted that day would come. Her Swan enthralled us. Her grace, her poise enchanted the audience.

The ballet does not have a happy ending, and sadly fantasy became reality. I have no wish to say more. It pains me to think about what happened, or why.

I have a beautiful fuchsia in my garden. Its delicate blooms have pink pointy petals. Like dancers. Like her. Just like her.







Sunday Photo Fiction

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11 comments:

  1. This sounds personal, I hope it isn't. A lot of ground covered to reach the ending, but didn't feel too strung out. Good one.

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  2. Hi Keith - good to see it's not you ... but can feel the sadness and loss: great story line ... especially with your pink font ... cheers Hilary

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  3. A great and sad story. Sounds like a very painful subject for the family.

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  4. it started off so happy then took a sad turn.

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  5. That's lovely - full of poignancy and beauty.

    Susan at
    Travel, Fiction and Photos

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  6. Sometimes it is most unfair that adverse endings overtake some promising beginnings. Life's ups and downs do sometimes end in a good note though.

    Hank

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  7. Its heartbreaking and so beautiful.
    It also piqued my curiosity, what happened?

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  8. Beautifully written. I know how hard dancers have to work, I gad a good friend who was one and she wasn't even as good as the girl you describe. So the pain she went through, the pressure to stay thin and beautiful, to get the perfect steps and routines, sounds very difficult to me, even if it was what she wanted to do and loved. I wonder like DeeDee what happened but my mind also thinks if several possibilities which are not good. Great write!

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  9. What a moving tale. Nicely done.

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  10. This brought forth memories of that classic film, The Red Shoes, for some reason. Very emotive.

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