Souvenirs of a First Dance Competition
by Heather Diodati, Lihue, Kauai
There I was, knees quaking with anticipation, hardly noticing my partner, whose knees were equally quivering. Just moments before, our category of the competition was called early; a well-planned surprise attack by the organizers, I'm sure. My partner, figuring he had a couple of hours before being called up onto the ballroom dance floor, had drifted out into the hallway of the classy hotel to drool over the concessionaires' many items for dance fanatics."Novice Latin!" the announcer exclaimed. I whipped my head around to look at him in disbelief.
Cold beads of perspiration dotted my forehead as I listened to the numbers of the couples being called up to the dance floor. "#143!" the announcer bellowed.In shock I sprang to my feet, my partner nowhere in site. Finally, after a few seconds which felt like centuries, my partner raced in to join me. I uttered a sigh of relief but that still didn't quell the flurry of butterfly wings in my stomach. I'm sure my eyes were as large as the taillights of the latest VAN! As a matter-of-fact they were as shown in photos taken by a wandering photographer hoping to profit from the numerous couples dancing that day. Wow.
And now, feeling like specimens beneath a magnifying glass under the scrutiny of the dance judges strategically positioned around the ballroom floor, here we were, about to embark upon our first ballroom dance competition experience, dazed and shocked at actually being on a competition floor. The myriad of watchful eyes surrounded us from the crowd of people consisting of family members of the competitors, friends, general public, the competitors themselves waiting to be called or just biding their time in hopes of a callback or a win.
by Heather Diodati, Lihue, Kauai
There I was, knees quaking with anticipation, hardly noticing my partner, whose knees were equally quivering. Just moments before, our category of the competition was called early; a well-planned surprise attack by the organizers, I'm sure. My partner, figuring he had a couple of hours before being called up onto the ballroom dance floor, had drifted out into the hallway of the classy hotel to drool over the concessionaires' many items for dance fanatics."Novice Latin!" the announcer exclaimed. I whipped my head around to look at him in disbelief.
"What lies behind us and what lies before us are small matters
compared to what lies within us."
compared to what lies within us."
Cold beads of perspiration dotted my forehead as I listened to the numbers of the couples being called up to the dance floor. "#143!" the announcer bellowed.In shock I sprang to my feet, my partner nowhere in site. Finally, after a few seconds which felt like centuries, my partner raced in to join me. I uttered a sigh of relief but that still didn't quell the flurry of butterfly wings in my stomach. I'm sure my eyes were as large as the taillights of the latest VAN! As a matter-of-fact they were as shown in photos taken by a wandering photographer hoping to profit from the numerous couples dancing that day. Wow.
"Fly Me To The Moon" by Jimmy Borges
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| Submitted by MaileYagi |
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