Gemotions

The rhythmic thump of the dance studio's music usually soothed Clara. Today, it was a taunt. The ballet master's decision to cut her from the production – "not the right aesthetic" – echoed in her ears. Clara tightened her pointe shoes, the familiar pressure a comfort. She attacked the choreography with a ferocity she hadn't known she possessed. Each pirouette was sharper, each leap higher, a silent scream against the injustice. She wouldn't fade into the background. She would become a force, an undeniable presence.