So I haven’t written anything made of prose for a while. Here’s a short piece partly based on a ballet show I recently saw…
toxic :: imprint :: fluorescent :: cream :: water pressure
The voices crawl from the darkness as if made of it. A woman sings Britney Spears Toxic in a breathy, spaced out way and girls wearing slinky purple outfits dance on stage. In the wings the director is attaching strings to the shoulders of ballerinas, he is hopeful for their performance. The girls spin en pointe across the bouncy black stage floor. They have danced hours for these moments. They collapse gracefully in staged fall, then a small girl stumbles in front of them as if pushed forward, she is dressed in the wrong colours. One dancer’s toenails begin to cut into her toes, she has not taped her feet enough. This small girl is wearing fluorescent yellow and is intensely out of place in the creams and purples of the stage. She cups her hands and inside her palms are the imprints of shoes, she remains there as the ballerinas glide around her, pretending to be weightless.