The Shoes

Fear grows deep within me as I wait for my turn. My turn to show the world what I am capable of. Everything that I have been working so hard for comees down to this final performance. I hear the sounds of other dance shoes like me hitting the floor. Taps and clogs clap togather in perfect synchronization. It's like music to my ears.

The others finish up their song and I wait to have my turn. Applause punctuates the end of their routine and the beginning of mine. Everyone sits down; a look of expectation is etched across the face of every person sitting in the audience. Excitement boils in me as we walk to center stage. With every step the worry grows. Then panic sets in: I forgot the routine. I wait in absolute silence for the music to start. I wait: hoping that my dancer can go on without me even though I hate to leave her to fend for herself. I don't want her to fail. She had worked so hard to get where she is, and I don't want to be the subject of her disappointment.

The quick rhythm of the song rushes in the air around me. With a sigh of relief I remember the routine down to the most difficult step. Joy and excitement take over as I perform every step with precision. Even the hardest steps I conquer with absolute ease. The glow of excitement fills the air, and I know that it is coming from the smile that has etched itself across the face of my dancer. The crowd watches in awe as she moves in perfect time with the music. Every twirl sends adrenaline pumping through my every stitch.

As our routine comes to an end I know I have succeeded. There is not one face in the crowd that is not lit with a smile. Even my dancer knows we have accomplished something beyond words. The last chord of the song rings through the air and we finish with a difficult combination. Waves of applause wash over us as we take a bow, and then quickly scurry off stage. A permanent smile has impressed itself upon my face as well as my dancer's. Shouts of congratulation follow us to the dressing room. My smile fades a little because I know that our time together is over for now.

The worst part is being taken off and put back into my home, a black bag where I have no privacy. Peace is a rare thing to come by when you share a space with someone else. A dozen other shoes call this place home, but I don't. The stage is my true home. I remind myself that soon I will be reunited with my dancer, and we will yet again awe the crowds. If only that time could come sooner. For now I sit and ponder.