"how did it start?" she asks; "how will it end?" i want to know.

it didn't just start. it happened, and it continues to happen. something that has a start logically must have an end. there is no end here. i bet i could end and this would go on.

one of my earliest memories is from dance class. my sister is not born yet so i am less than five years old. we are practicing a move - something called window shutters, i believe. two girls stand side by side, then step in opposite directions, thus revealing a third girl who was standing behind them the whole time, shielded from the view of the audience.

i was not sufficiently small enough to be the third girl by any stretch of the imagination. i remember knowing i could never even be considered by the instructor to be girl #3. i remember being worried that i could play the part of both girls #1 and #2. how mortifying would that have been? to be both shutters. thankfully i was spared this imagined embarrassment. so many mirrors. so many little girls. but i was never a "little" girl.

this was my last dance class. the next few days i complained of a bellyache and imitated my mother's morning-sickness. the following saturday i announced i would not being going to dance class.

i feigned stage fright the night of the recital. i told my parents i was not a dancer, and they assumed i'd much rather just play softball and soccer and plus, with a new baby sister, they had other things on their mind, other things to spend their money on besides wasted dance lessons for child elephants better suited for catcher or goalie.

that was my last dance class. i hate mirrors.


who cares how it starts, all i care about is how it ends.