Photo courtesy of Renee Heath, used at Rochelle Wisoff-Fields Friday Fiction
Kimberly plastered a smile on her face as she spun in graceful circles in front of the old decrepit looking building.
No one need know of her pain and frustration. No one need know that she had taken this job of dancing and spinning as a marketing gimmick for Desiree’s Dance, making less than minimum wage, because she had no other options.
No, she would hold her head up high and spin with poise and grace, just as she had been taught by old lady Garrety all those years ago.