This originated from another picture prompt we did in writing group. This one turned out pretty good, despite I had fifteen minutes to write it.
Regina Patterson fumed with frustration. The book on film techniques filled her hand like a lead weight, threatening to succumb to gravity’s embrace and leave her life forever. But she persevered in keeping it aloft, pushed through the technical prose that swam around in her mind like a whirlpool of non-sensical words and concepts. She had to learn this new technology called, “Film.” Her life depended on it.
Ten years ago, she was twenty – a prime age for a dancer. She mused at virtually flying through the air countless times, using a series of leaps and hops, gracing the stage nightly as its featured performer. Like most twenty-year olds, she did not think of the future, nor did she care, for her grace and poise and control made her the envy of her cast-mates and the desire of any man she met.
How she longed for those days! A daily routine of stretching and workouts to keep her limber and strong populated her entire life. There was no time for books and studying, nor was there a need. She was the star. The ballerina extraordinaire. The heavenly dancer of Swan Lake.
There was no time for books and studying, nor was there a need. She was the star.
No one told her those days would eventually end. No one told her that her flexibility would wane. She diligently stretched her legs vertically every day, including today, but the rest of her body slowly lost its elasticity. And, most importantly, no one told her that her looks would betray her as well.
She no longer held the title of star. No longer the envy of anyone. No longer the prime target of a suitor-of-the-week. The dancing jobs soon stopped. The money came to an end. And now she was desperately trying to learn a new craft to, at the very least, distract herself from wishing for a life that she could no longer possess. And she did it alone. And the book mocked her with its technical terms and bewildering concepts.