Swan Lake

"On the count of three.." Madame Moreau takes her position in the wing.

"One." I look out at the bright lights on the stage.

"Two." Chloe bends down to fix her slipper.

"Three." The dancers file onto the stage and take a deep breath.

"Let's dance." The music begins.

I look out the bright lights and the theater full of big eyes staring out at the stage. I take a deep breath as the song hits the dancers begin.

When it is my cue I tiptoed onto the stage, going over the routine we've practiced a thousand times in my head. My nerves were rushing through my blood and for a split moment I forgot my steps. I looked over at the other swans and kept going, pushing through.

The audience is dark, I could barely even make out the people, but I know that they are watching.

And, just like that, the show is over. The lights go off, the clapping starts, the flowers are given out. And it's done, hours of endless practice for two shows. And, it's done.

Xx,

Romey

[Image: “Swans” photography by Lar Rattray via seventy nine ideas]