I sit in the foremost front seat
Just watching, spectating
My eyes fixed on the ballet in front of me and it's glory
The hall is dark so I fixate on the stage to the front and watch, spectate, view.

The music is soft, with sweet harps plucking in the back
The harp begins to slow down and the up front dancer bends her body into a resemblance of a-

Swan standing proudly across the park near the duck pond. The toddler in front of me grabs my hand as she points to it. A clear blue sky over head and the grass tiptoes ever so slightly in the draft.

Daddy look daddy look a swan!

I reaffirm her that it is indeed a swan
She bounces out of joy.
She leaps into the air and-

Lands gracefully on the platform as if rehearsed a thousand times. The dancer's cloth swaying with inertia and slowing.
How elegant the ripples of the attire. Under the stage lights they move back and fourth, and as the dancer stretches to the side, standing on one leg, the wrinkles become slightly less-

Noticable as I iron my dress shirt for work. My baby sitting next to me drawing pictures of the house we lived in with bright red marker.
She draws two figures next to the house, standing in the flower bed with big smiles.

One figure, with a triangle over her legs and a lopsided arrow that had Me written on it. The second figure was taller and read Daddy.

I smile a bitter sweet smile, but she never sees

I continue to Iron the work shirt as I watch the girl cap the red marker and draw a third arrow to the flower bed in a bright-

Pink. It was the theme of the ballet and every dancer wore it. It went well with the blue back drop and really accented their sleek movements across the stage, as if avoiding detection.
The harp started to gradually speed up and so did the dancers
Trotting the stage side to side yet somehow gliding all the same.
The wind pushed their hair behind them and all together they raised their arms into the-

Air flowing past her fingers as she opened and closed them.
It felt funny
She would always say and giggle
She sat in the back seat as we were cruising in the convertible.
It was a particularly overcast day and the road was dim lit for an afternoon.
I looked back at her and smiled as I watched her throw her hands above the window again and again when suddenly-

The sound of a crash on stage as the smallest dancer in the back line had tripped up and fallen hard onto the cold, hard, wooden floor.

She seems to have hurt an ankle and she sits on the ground in a mix of shock and pain. The dance and song comes to a halt as two men standing by are directed to help her off stage. They both grab one of her arms and-

Lift her from the metal bed and she is thrown into the back of an ambulance and driven-

Away from the ruckus, an instructor demands attention and slowly counts, indicating a continuation from where they left off. The performers seemed a bit uneasy about it but continued any ways. As they stopped in place, the larger gap where the injured dancer would have filled made itself outwardly evident.

The gap, an eyesore, had my full and utter attention. So much so that when the-

Nurse asked for me to step out of the room, I didn't hear. I was too busy staring and hoping that it wasn't reality I was in. I was finally put outside after some convincing words from the doctor. I sat in the lobby and grabbed a pin from my pocket. It-

Twirled round and round
This was the end of the song approaching quickly. I know this because I had heard it end once before and kept a tempo in my head.
It was so contagious that I sang it to myself constantly.
The memory however brought much less emotion than actually hearing the piece. So much so that I was inclined to-

Tears welled up as the doctor and nurses gave a-

Final bow to me, in the audience, concluding the recital.
Clapping ensued for the artist and roses were thrown onstage.
After a few minutes of this, people filed out of the hall and got in their vehicles to leave.

I had brought my bike.