Wings of May

Jennifer

"You're doing a good job, Jennifer."

The cold voice seemed to echo in the almost empty room. Her cold eyes, owner of the eyes, were arrowed on a young lady. Her arms were crossed over her chest, a whip grasped tightly in one of her hand, scrutinising every detail, every movement of the young lady.

The young lady continued doing a penché, her body weight supported by a portable barre, her eyes staring blankly towards the mirror in front of her.

"A fouetté now, Jennifer." That cold voice rang again.

"Yes Madame."

~~

"You're doing a good job, Jennifer."

The man looked up from the stacks of paper on his clipboard, his robotic-like voice turning almost everyone's head towards him. He paused, staring at the young lady, "You're just a few seconds short from the national record for 100m, but I still expect to see improvement next time, got it?"

The young lady heaved heavily, attempting her best to catch her breathe without being too obvious, the way her coach liked it. She returned the stare for awhile, nodding stiffly as she returned to the starting position on the track,

"Got it, Sir."

~~

"You're doing a good job, Jennifer."

The piano stopped, the old lady's formality remained even in her voice, just as she had been taught since young, and she turned to the young lady standing right next to her, "But this is not what I'd expected. Higher, Jennifer! Your notes are too flat."

"Yes Madam." The young lady replied, her eyes hollow without soul, her mouth barely opening, her voice so soft it was completely different from her volume before.

"Louder Jennifer!" The old lady exclaimed again, "What on earth are you muttering about..."

"Yes Madam!" The young lady spoke louder, only to be met with a wave of the former's arm, and the piano played again, signalling for her to start once more.

~~

"You're doing a good job, Jennifer."

The man squatted in front of her, his huge shadow ridding her of the sunlight shining on her and through her goggles. He turned to his stop watch, then to her, then to the stop watch again, "Your timing is fine."

The young lady propped up her head in the water, waiting for the instructor to continue and there he want again, "Twenty laps more."

"Yes Sir." Her words muffled as bubbles floated to the surface, disappearing as fast as her feet touched the sides of the pool for the thirty-oneth time.