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Breaking Away
February 3, 2012
The air here felt fresh on my face, different from London's. It was the perfect omen, proving I had done the right thing, coming here so impulsively, against my father's wish that I perform in his opera house. I stepped down from the train, my shoes rustling dust gathered on the platform, so different from the on that had seen me off, but my smile never faltered.
I had been so lucky to get this job. And although this town was small, insignificant compared to the whole world, the schoolhouse it held was my opera house. The one I wanted.
© Allison S., Eau Claire, WI
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