I know this is really short but this was an assignment given to me by my mom about two years ago. So, please enjoy!
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Her feet are her way of life. Without them, the dancer is useless. Her lively hood is depended on the good health of her feet. If crippled or deformed the dancer has to stop her dream and passion.
The dancers feet are right now behind the curtain, preparing for the show. They are strong and powerful. Sturdy, solid and passionate. They live for the energy of the crowd, the cheers of success.
Its veins are visible. Poking out of its skin. Blue and slim, they look like flowing streams. Her toenails are cut short and newly painted. Her heel and toes and covered with bandages, trying to cover the countless blisters playing connect-the-dots all around her feet.
The dancers part is coming up, nervously she leans on one foot to the other. Pointe to Pointe to Pointe to Pointe. Slowly shuffling, her slender feet go tense as she peeks out to see a full audience. Gulping, she returned to her preparations.
Briskly, she retied her Pointe-Shoes. Her foot flexed and pointed, while slightly shacking. The music ended on stage. A huge cheer banged through the walls.
Steadily, the dancer rose. The feet cringed as the weight of the dancers body put all it’s body on it. But, slowly she got into place. The feet got on Pointe. Even though it hurt, she proceeded into the dance with a beaming smile, all thanks to her feet that had gone through so many things.
Moving, swishing, gliding around the stage, the feet moved rhythmically with the music. Later, the song stopped. Breathless the ballerina bowed.
Breathless the audience cheered and stood in awe of the dancer and her feet.
-- M.B.











