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the floor in a grand jete. She was a sylph, lighter than air, dancing the dance of a newborn sprite. Lost youth returned to her as she spun a story on the tips of her toes. The story of a love lost and found was written on the dusty floor in the calligraphy of the dance. Liquid limbs lifted her up and up as if she had fairy wings attached to her slender shoulders. She choreographed a final saltation and landed it without a sound. The oil lamps burned down one by one as she took her final bow. In the shadows of an attic stage, she curtsied before an unseen audience. Deafening applause filled the room. The very floor shook as the crowd leapt to its feet in an invisible ovation

She closed the attic door behind her, gliding across hardwood floors and down darkened stairs without the aid of light. She could see in the dark and walk on the air. Music and applause rang in her ears. 'Encore! Encore!' Members of the unseen audience pleaded for more. Olivia felt alive. She passed a framed print that hung in the hallway. Caught by a sideways glance, she peered into the glass blinking back tears. Captured, between the glass and the canvas, was the face of a young woman. All evidence of age erased. Olivia raised her hand to her face before she ran down the hall. The same reflection welcomed her from the mirror in the bathroom. She leaned forward and pressed a tear-stained cheek to the cool, polished glass.
As she readied herself for bed, Olivia stumbled over a mess in the floor. A bunch of things laid scattered, half-underneath the bed, but none of them belonged to her. She didn't know where they came from or to whom they belonged. She scooped the things up tossing them onto an easy chair by the window. Contemplating their origin was not an option tonight. She was spent and sated, far too tired for complicated thoughts. Olivia rummaged through the drawers looking for night clothes but all the pajamas she found looked too warm or too worn. She wondered where all of her things had gone. Too exhausted to care, she pulled back the covers and crawled between the quilt and sheets. Still wearing her ballet dress and slippers, sleep settled across her girlish features. Olivia slept, dreaming of encores.

Learn more about this author, Diane Mackenzie.
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