Faded Blue Carpet.

Faded Blue Carpet.

I sit doing the butterfly stretch I learned down the hall as a toddler. This isn’t my house, but I am home. I’m here four to five days a week two hours at a time. I bend my spine forward, like the bow of an archer. Relaxing into the stretch, and focusing on the old faded blue carpet. My nose touches my feet I breathe in deep. I smell the leather on my soft slippers, hot from me rubbing up and down on my arches- to gain maximum flexibility.

I’m the first one here every day, sometimes I’m even here before the teachers. I don’t mind it though. I think about every correction my teacher gave me last class. You don’t want to get the same correction twice, that means you don’t listen, and that shows you don’t care.

I hear pointe shoes tip-tapping on the grey studio floor. The sound is calming to me, almost like rain on a tin roof. The other girls in my class begin to trickle in. I lift up my head and greet them with a smile. We talk about pirouettes, jetes, splits, over-splits, developes. Everyone of us loves it here. We are all home. Home is where family is. They are my family. And this is forever my home. I pick up my pointe shoes, that I raised the money to buy(but I don’t care), and walk into the studio. I stand at the barre and begin to stretch. I love being at home.

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