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Walking on a Dream
I set sail on a cloud of cool air. I haven’t been so weightless in forever, even five years ago and ten pounds lighter. Tonight, though, I soar.The trapeze is my favourite. The silks are fun, sure: twisting, spiraling towards the ground, the gasps when I flip into a split and flash my shiny teeth like it’s nothing to me, that’s chill-inducing.But swinging through the air, the moment of terror when I release and am suspended for long seconds, the exhilaration of the catch, oh—there’s nothing like it.The crowd’s loud tonight. I swing up onto the bar, my ice-queen leotard gleaming, and they cheer when I stick my chest out. I’m not sure where we are: Latvia? Estonia? All I know is I haven’t been in California since I was fifteen. I’m not even sure my parents still live there. They probably stayed, waiting for me, thinking I’d come back one day.Newsflash: girls who run away run for a reason. We don’t come back.Another cheer from the crowd, and I flick so I’m upside down, waving at them.They’re what keeps me so beautifully high.I just wish I never had to come down.