Glitter

Shuffling through my purse, I counted the dollars out one by one until I reached the necessary amount. Once I had, I pulled the cash out and handed them to the lady standing before me. Black hair streaked with a bright cherry red, she cocked an eyebrow when she saw the bills of ten.

"Do you want the money or not?" I asked her.

She made a face and held out her hand. In the center of her palm lay a single key. Picking it up as gently as I could, I couldn't help the smile that stretched my lips as the sun caught in it's metallic shine.

This was my key to freedom; my first step to the very reason that had brought me to America in the first place.

It was the key to a small dance studio that was located in a seedy neighborhood, hidden between high alcoves of apartment blocks.

The money that I had just paid had been the first down payment I would make to guarantee myself a time slot of two hours per week of private studio use.

If anyone could understand at least a fraction the passion that I felt for dance, they would understand how very important such an achievement was for me.

I didn't notice the woman turn and walk away. For the better part of two minutes, I just stood there, the key in the air, dreams of taffeta tutus, bruised toes and classical music drifting through my mind.

I had been living in this country for five years now.

Three years of memories that I had no intention of recalling ever again. Three long years of my father hating me; despising me even, for abandoning my struggling family to catch the wisps of a dream in a strange country a million miles away from home. Three very long years of hard work, pain, suffering and self denial and never had I lost sight of what I needed to do. Never.

All that had brought me to this very small, insignificant looking key and as my fingers wrapped around the cool metal, I could finally begin on the journey that I had travelled across the globe for.

I was going to dance again, and I was going to shine.