Wednesday

Dance class with Ellen on Wednesdays.

My leotard fits like a wetsuit. The neck clamps onto my skin under my collarbones, and my thighs feel suppressed. Today Ellen wants me to hold a yellow scarf while crossing the room diagonally. She loves it when we are graceful. Maybe I could be graceful if my leotard did not feel like a vice. She wants all of the girls to look the same on Saturday. We are turquoise and shiny like spandex, but without the stretch of spandex. Our waists are crushed like tight denim jeans.

Dance class with Ellen on Wednesdays.

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