A Perdu à Moscou

Maybe this will go something interesting, maybe this will walk in circles, or maybe this will wander deep in the woods getting tangling around trees and shrubs.

Marie peeked out behind the large, red curtain that separated her from her fears. Her extravagant costume dress suddenly seemed too tight as if it were slowly suffocating her, depriving her of the sweet oxygen.

The crowd beyond were mingling with each other, anticipating the introduction act, which would be danced by her of course.

"Hurry up!" Vite! Vite!, her teacher, Madame Marseille, said.

For the first time that evening, Marie noticed the other girls, the other dancers who were just as nervous as she. She smiled weakly at Rebecca, a much younger girl who wore the face of confidence. Marie thought it was naive.

The eighteen girls ran in formation for the introductory act of Swan Lake, with Marie in the front and center.

Before the curtain rose, she looked over her shoulder but Madame Marseille was no longer visible.

This is it, she thought and took a deep breath.

The End

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