She entered the ballroom ready to dance, well, mostly ready.
Before leaving her house she spent two hours preparing: makeup enough to make an artist blush—even midnight blue eyeshadow of all things--along with a bouncy black and white skirt, a purple shirt and a black ruffly overlay of a blouse for dramatic loveliness, and a gorgeously large purple flower for on the side of her pinned down and up curls. Velvet and satin black heels would be perfect for the fox-trot, she thought to herself, and then whisked away out the door after grabbing them.
Music was playing, pleasantly filling up the space between the dancers. She could feel the nervous energy, but did not succumb to it—yet. After practicing with non-partner after non-partner, courage and even the ever-elusive confidence took shelter in her heart. Dancing electrifies and enlivens this wounded warrior queen. She is ready.
But then, her name is called for next up and mistakes begin to be the norm. Stepped upon toes of the darling sweetheart brave soul who didn't refuse when I asked him to test with me twenty minutes before my test, immediate nervous sweat response which is highly unattractive, and the giggles (because I get all smarty pants when I'm nervous) set in hard and fast. It was near immediate after the instructor called. And before catching even one good breath, he called for the test. And I couldn't breathe to save my life.
Red and ready to run, I went in with faux confidence—remembering to look away from my partner as if he weren't pushing me around the floor in an elegantly physical adventure.
And I did it. I danced the fox-trot on the ballroom floor in a way that resembled what I had imagined myself doing. It was pure magic.
Before leaving her house she spent two hours preparing: makeup enough to make an artist blush—even midnight blue eyeshadow of all things--along with a bouncy black and white skirt, a purple shirt and a black ruffly overlay of a blouse for dramatic loveliness, and a gorgeously large purple flower for on the side of her pinned down and up curls. Velvet and satin black heels would be perfect for the fox-trot, she thought to herself, and then whisked away out the door after grabbing them.
Music was playing, pleasantly filling up the space between the dancers. She could feel the nervous energy, but did not succumb to it—yet. After practicing with non-partner after non-partner, courage and even the ever-elusive confidence took shelter in her heart. Dancing electrifies and enlivens this wounded warrior queen. She is ready.
But then, her name is called for next up and mistakes begin to be the norm. Stepped upon toes of the darling sweetheart brave soul who didn't refuse when I asked him to test with me twenty minutes before my test, immediate nervous sweat response which is highly unattractive, and the giggles (because I get all smarty pants when I'm nervous) set in hard and fast. It was near immediate after the instructor called. And before catching even one good breath, he called for the test. And I couldn't breathe to save my life.
Red and ready to run, I went in with faux confidence—remembering to look away from my partner as if he weren't pushing me around the floor in an elegantly physical adventure.
And I did it. I danced the fox-trot on the ballroom floor in a way that resembled what I had imagined myself doing. It was pure magic.
Your description of the setting, your outfit, andthe changing emotions really made me feel like I was there with you even though I do not know much about ballroom dancing. I also loved that you used the word "sweat" subtly reminding us all that it IS exercise!
ReplyDeleteI really wanted to bring everyone into my experience. I am so glad it was effective! I appreciate you taking time to leave some feedback. It helps me to keep writing. :)
DeleteI am sorry, but I am having trouble reading your typeface. I would love to read your stories, but I struggle with the font you use.
ReplyDeleteIs it the font or that it's in gray not black? I will work on this to make it more readable. I truly appreciate your feedback. I want everyone to be able to read it if they choose!
DeleteI think it is because the font is gray and not black. The words don't have enough contrast against the white, and it looks likes part of the letters are missing. Thank you for being willing to help me read your stories :)
DeleteWhile the color scheme is interrupted, the reading shall be more beautiful. Please let me know if there are still issues with the font after changing the color. If you were having troubles, I am certain other less brave souls were as well, and I want my words to be read not just given a glance. <3
DeleteIt is a pure magic when the music wipes away the nervousness and carries you along. I have found the slow fox-trot to be the hardest of all ballroom dances. At the same time the flowing movement makes me feel like flying. Dance, dance, dance!
ReplyDelete