Phyllis loved watching the ballerina on television pirouette on pointe shoes. In her mind she swayed to the music, muscles too stiff and weak struggling to move, struggling to flow as they had so many years before. Dance was her life, and now she could only watch and listen, a soft oasis of elegance in her stark, antiseptic reality of a hospital room.
“It’s okay, Mom. You can let go.” Her daughter’s voice calmed her spirit as her lips brushed her forehead.
Tired and hurting, Phyllis heard her, then smiled and closed her eyes. She went home on pointe shoes, pirouetting.
Free to dance on for eternity. – *nods* – Well done Mark – *smiles*
Great story – beautifully written!
A warm, uplifting story that makes my day a little brighter. Thanks!
I just knew there was dancing in Heaven. A tender, insightful, well crafted work.