Morning.
My muscles tensed
As the cool air stiffened my body.
Rummaging through my bedside table,
I found the remedy for my newly aching skull

I must have danced in my sleep,
Left heel touching my right toes
Hips turned out
Ready in fifth position
Squeezing last night’s dinner
And a grand batma to my face,
Lovely.

I could smell the heat
Seeping through the pores
Of my walls. Opening my curtains,
I saw what appeared to be a miracle!
My eyes widened with astonishment
Snowflakes delicately twirled through the air
Each sparkling in its own solo.

“Mom, Dad! It’s snowing!
It’s only October!”
I pranced to breakfast
And once in the kitchen,
I could not help but
Chaine around my Mom
As she flipped my Dalmatian pancakes.

I searched the room
Before I could question,
My mom told me my dad had work.
Strange, it’s Sunday.
The doorbell chimed
“Wait! Don’t get that!”
Too late, Mom!
I already had the door open.
It was the cute delivery guy.

Oh goodness.
I had just woken up.
My eyes were still glued shut
With yesterday’s make up.
Not to mention
My tangled nest upon my head
Was ready to be the new home of pigeons.
I casually leaned on the door,
Running my hand through the nest,
Shoot.
My hand was stuck,
The delivery guy raised his dark eyebrow.
Trying to speak quietly so my
Morning breath would not
Poison the guy, I questioned him.
“Shouldn’t you have the day off?”
His dimples deepened with his smile,
Then he asked if I should be in school…
My first physical encounter with him
Is beginning to be a disappointment.
I guess not everyone is gifted
With common sense.
“It’s Sunday! No way,” I laughed.
Warmth filled my cheeks.
“No it’s Thursday, trickster,” he responded,
I grabbed the package out of his arms
To point out the date:

4 DEC.

No. I dropped the box.
I looked at my mom,
Her face wrinkled with terror.
But she knew.
I sprinted past her
Clicked on the television.
The guide said it was December.
The snowflakes said it was December.

I ran to my room,
Throwing myself to the ground.
Collapsing in confusion.
Shaking with a fear that was not clear to me.
My eyes poured pools of despair,
I was scared.
My mom’s arms held me.
“Why isn’t it October 9th,, Mom?”
Her lips trembled too much to speak
She gave me pictures.
There I was at last night’s show,
Lifted in an arabesque near the orchestra pit.
There I was months ago,
Lifted into the ambulance.

Mom shook, too, as she cradled me
This agony felt new to me,
Splintering my heart.
Last night was my final show.
I whimpered into my Mom’s sleeve

Shock carved my mind like a scalpel.
Shutting my eyes,
Ready to escape
I had let the darkness come.
It covered me like a sheet.

Morning.
My muscles tensed
As the cool air stiffened my body.
Rummaging through my bedside table,
I found the remedy for my newly aching skull