And she dances...
Beating the music rythm with her dancing shoes. The mirror was showing a so light swinging angel. At the door, her dance teatcher, her professor, her mistress, her mentor was standing. Using her non forgiveness sight she was focusing on her legs. Three times she made the dancer do again. Three times the dancer has fallen. Three times she let tiny blood marks on the wooden floor. But three time she rose up to dance. Again. She was loving it. Really hard.
"I will pass it. I have to. I must do it."
Was she telling to herself. But what ever the way she used to pass the step she was falling at the end.
"You'll never get it. I just give up to teach you something. I'll take a more competent dancer. A girl who does not complain, a girl who does not cry."
By saying, the mistress left. She stuck for a moment, totally stunt, and put on the sound louder to start again her training. And for an hour, silently crying, she tried.
