Out of everything that she did, she loved the dancing most of all.
Whenever there was a chance she would flit about the room she was in as if she were on stage in a beautiful dress, the appropriate shoes adorning her feet and a lovely tiara on her brow. The music would change, different instruments and beats filling the air around her as she would move this way and that.
One foot did not bend the correct way and her knees would often give out at the most awkward moment, sending her sprawling across the floor. Her imaginary dress dissolved into nothing more than a sheet or a blanket or nothing but the magic dust of her mind. Her tiara would clang on the ground and roll away while one sock hung off a foot and the other turned under.
With a wince, she’d pull herself to her knees and then to her feet, limping away as the music played on.
Secretly, despite the pain, a smile would curl up her lips.image found: http://www.morguefile.com/archive/display/595871
Written for this week’s Dungeon Prompts (http://theseekersdungeon.com/2014/04/10/dungeon-prompts-season-2-week-15-self-expression/) and because this would happen a lot to me as a child. I was a clumsy thing full of too much energy and not enough grace, but I loved to dance no matter how badly I did so.