Groping onto the handrail, I climbed the cold, metallic stairs, my leather shoes brushing against it. Filled with anxiety, I scurried along the concrete floor to the other dancers. The world around me was black; the blue velvet curtains created a cloak of darkness, like the night. As the other dancers and I shuffled to the stage, we were fearful, hoping to perform well. Our hearts pounded with a tremendous force. We were ready to dance.

The curtains slowly creaked open, allowing the spotlight to illuminate our faces like the bright sun coming through the clouds. The audience’s whispers softened. We could barely spot their faces, for the light blinded us. The music began to blare, slowly at first, then faster, and the dancers moved. We glided, we leaped, and we twirled with grace. Our bright costumes flashed with our movements, keeping time with the music.

Then the audience’s roar of applause deafened the fading music, and we stopped- reluctantly. The curtains fell closed again, and the dancers hurried off the stage. We glided down the metal stairs once more, and prepared to dance again.