It was the day of her big debut. She had always wondered when the day would come. Countless times she had auditioned for the role of Odette. Year after year and after countless hours of training, alone or with others, in front of a mirror or without, every time someone else was better than her. Not today. Today she was one of the chosen ones. She was going to be Odette, the big role in Swan Lake! The Star in one of the most popular pieces of classical ballet.
Tomorrow she'd stand there, atop the stage, with the light shining on her and the sound of music in her ears and the people would applaud her performance! She'd be famous, in the news, the rising star in her own little world!
She had been so close! So very close! It was going to be her day. She went jogging and the next thing she knew is that she fell. Someone put a trip wire in the park. They made her fall! It was far too low to kill anyone. All she felt in the minute they cut through he ankles was a sharp pain. It didn't even register at first until she couldn't keep herself upright anymore.
They were gone! She couldn't dance as Odette with stumps! She was never going to be the main-role! How would any of the prostheses they offered her ever live up to her old, natural feet?
She tried them all out. None of them had the same range or strength. They protested as she tried to bent them in new ways they were not supposed to go. Those which didn't break caused her pain. Even though, she grinned and bore it, trembling as she did another pirouette and losing her tact as the pain became too much.
She should retire and settle down with her last shreds of dignity. Her career was over. A dancer without feet; unthinkable. All things people said: behind her back, to her face and in magazines. It was what they whispered on the street. Look at her, the dancer who can't dance anymore.
She settled down. The song her body should sing remained unsung for a long time. A large hole had been torn into her body and even her husband couldn't fix this one.
Talon's new feet worked so much better. They bent in ways she wanted them to bent and didn't hurt. They moved perfectly and were flexible and light, unlike her other prostheses. Not that she minded anymore.
What good were feet but to walk on them? They had put out the flames in her heart and replaced them with ice-cubes. There was no more fire or passion. Just precision. But she still held an air of elegance and grace. Sometimes she could hear the sounds of music coming to her ears. It was this one song she had practiced so many times, alone of with others, in front of a mirror or without.
For a moment her body remembered all the old moves from the past which had passed into her flesh and blood and she did the dying swan one more time until the music stopped.