Fading Glow
Cora warmed herself by the embers of the fireplace in the foyer. She watched bits of paper, engulfed in flames, float up into the chimney. They reminded her of moths, flying too close to the fire. Her debut with the corps de ballet was tomorrow, and the thought of performing on the stage, surrounded by the orange glow of the gas lamps filled her with avidity.
The plaster molding of the ceiling in the Paris Garnier was so different from her mother’s home. Cora laid down on the marble floor and admired the frescoes and gold leaf in the same place she once saw rotting wood and dripping water. She welcomed the serenity of the cold, vacant space after a day of repetitions, soreness, and exhaustion. Her time for leisure was over; she needed to prepare her mind for tomorrow night.