Post by Deleted on Sept 26, 2015 13:33:26 GMT -5
She woke from the dream cold with sweat, unsettled but unsure why. As quickly as she tried to recall what had woken her, the details slipped away into the cool darkness of the fall evening. The window was open and a breeze curled in, caressing the loose bits of hair that had escaped her braid. The clock on her nighstand read 2:24.
Giving up on sleep, Ceri went through her normal morning routine. She coiled her braided hair around her head to keep it out of the way, made tea, and dressed. It took an hour before she was ready to leave her sparsely adorned dorm, bag in hand with a change of clothes. Pale pink tights, a black leotard, and a short black wrap skirt were the only things that adorned her body besides a pair of plain black flats. Travel mug of tea in hand, she made her way out of the dorm building and across the campus in the chilly pre-dawn morning.
Opening the doors to the performing arts building, she felt some knot of tension release between her shoulders. She'd been in and out of buildings like this for her whole life it seemed. This was home. She made her way to one of the smaller dance studios, not bothering to turn on lights. The faint light from the outside campus lights coming in through the windows was enough for her to see by. The pale woman switched out her flat for a pair of battered pointe shoes.
She discarded the wrap skirt, eyeing herself critically in the mirror. She shuffled her feet into first, flexing her knees to try and wake up muscles still lazy from sleep. She settled her ear buds in and with a tap turned on the mp3 player strapped to her upper arm. Then she turned the volume up until it even drowned out the sound of her breathing and the beat of her heart.
"Mister Crowley... what went on in your head?" The strains of music just escaped her earbuds in the utter silence of the room, interrupted occassionally by the slide of shoe across the floor or the sharp tap of the toe coming down firmly.
By the time dawn came a few hours later she had left the bar. The early morning rays caught the sheen of sweat off her skin as she flew across the floor in complicated combinations of leaps, turns, and fine footwork. Her eyes were narrowed to almost slits and her face was utterly blank. Her body stretched and twisted in a different sort of expression. From her toes to the tips of her fingers there was no part of her body that was not speaking though what message not even Ceri could have said.
Giving up on sleep, Ceri went through her normal morning routine. She coiled her braided hair around her head to keep it out of the way, made tea, and dressed. It took an hour before she was ready to leave her sparsely adorned dorm, bag in hand with a change of clothes. Pale pink tights, a black leotard, and a short black wrap skirt were the only things that adorned her body besides a pair of plain black flats. Travel mug of tea in hand, she made her way out of the dorm building and across the campus in the chilly pre-dawn morning.
Opening the doors to the performing arts building, she felt some knot of tension release between her shoulders. She'd been in and out of buildings like this for her whole life it seemed. This was home. She made her way to one of the smaller dance studios, not bothering to turn on lights. The faint light from the outside campus lights coming in through the windows was enough for her to see by. The pale woman switched out her flat for a pair of battered pointe shoes.
She discarded the wrap skirt, eyeing herself critically in the mirror. She shuffled her feet into first, flexing her knees to try and wake up muscles still lazy from sleep. She settled her ear buds in and with a tap turned on the mp3 player strapped to her upper arm. Then she turned the volume up until it even drowned out the sound of her breathing and the beat of her heart.
"Mister Crowley... what went on in your head?" The strains of music just escaped her earbuds in the utter silence of the room, interrupted occassionally by the slide of shoe across the floor or the sharp tap of the toe coming down firmly.
By the time dawn came a few hours later she had left the bar. The early morning rays caught the sheen of sweat off her skin as she flew across the floor in complicated combinations of leaps, turns, and fine footwork. Her eyes were narrowed to almost slits and her face was utterly blank. Her body stretched and twisted in a different sort of expression. From her toes to the tips of her fingers there was no part of her body that was not speaking though what message not even Ceri could have said.