Object Writing, Prose & Poetry Forum

August 22, 2019, 08:12:57 PM
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This week's words;

Sunday - Instructions

Monday- Motorcycle

Tuesday- Wildflower

Wednesday- Asparagus

Thursday- Stopwatch

Friday - Confetti


Word of the Day
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Author Topic: Balance Beam  (Read 55 times)
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« on: June 12, 2019, 11:09:03 AM »

She softly pads her feed across the hard wooden beam. Her foot is the same width, i would say, as the beam. She is strong but delicate, balancing in the still air of the gym. Dust particles from the hand chalk float in the air, a beam of sun from one of the few small windows hits them just right so I can see them. I realize I am breathing them in. So is she. A lot. She is a gazelle, a ballerina, chin held high, shoulders back. I move my shoulders back to match hers when I realize that mine are hunched, as usual. The chairs here are short, plastic, many are tippy. Curved slightly to scoop in our bottoms. I feel a little sorry for the dads, the tall ones who sit, their knees practically up to their chins. But they don't care. well, my husband would care. But he would be more into the photo opp as some of the other dads -- and moms for sure -- are too. I always felt like i had to "bribe" him to come to her events by dangling "you can take photographs" like a piece of steak for a hound. He would bite. But I doubt he would have -- certainly not with such interest -- if he was to just sit and take in the vision of his only daughter in a fleeting moment of her life. But, at least he is here, right!? Not for all of these gymnastics "shows" but for some of them. The padded floor squishes in a comforting way when i walk on it. It feels fun, like a moon walk.
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