I was driving down an old, but very familiar, gravel road.
I have been here in years. I thought to myself
You see, I’m a professional dancer and choreographer, but I lost my inspiration. I haven’t made a good routine in weeks.
So, I decided to go back home, to the house that built me.
I get out of my car and walk up to driveway.
I reach the porch and knock on the door.
“Ma’am I know you don’t know me, but do you mind if I look around? I grew up here and I need to find my inspiration again.” I said.
The lady turned out to be a huge fan of mine.
“Why of Crouse dear!” She said happily.
I thanked the lady for her hospitality.
As I walk around back, memories come flooding back.
I was nine. I was in the backyard, my older sister and I were dancing.
Our mother was watching and smiling., (god rest her soul)
That was the first time I did the firebird leap.
I walked on, smiling to myself. More memories came.
It was Christmas Eve. Mom, sissy, and I were baking cookies.
“What do you want for Christmas sissy?” I asked.
“I don’t know. What about you?”
“I want that dance custom that the girl who got second wore that last competition.” I said.
“Oh, you mean the blue one?”
“Yep.” I said.
“That was pretty.”
I laugh at that memory. I begin walking to my car.
This is just what I needed. To go back to the house that built me.
I begin the long trip back home. Thinking of a routine called “The house that built.”
The End
