Flash Fiction post #3 | Dancers by Rowena Wiseman

Welcome to Flash Fiction Month where my guest blogger today is fellow GoodReads author Rowena Wiseman.  Below is her short story with such vivid imagery.  I was honored to guest blog on her site about my writing a few months ago.  You can click on her blog and read my interview there or check out her other stories on Wattpad.  Enjoy!


They danced to the same tune in a contemporary ballet company when they were younger. He used to lift her, his hands holding her thin waist, her rib cage revealing each breath. She was waxed bare. Her face was painted in a theatrical mask, her red lips always poised in position, her dark curly hair neatly trained.

They got married and even though he wanted to keep on touring, she wanted to have children. He knew it would be the end of their career. Two boys came, contorting her body in ways she’d never moved before, although she had moved in many ways. Her stomach sagged, her bottom fell, he never saw her ribcage breathing again.

Hair started growing everywhere – creeping down her thighs, under her arms, whiskers under her chin. She left blood spots on their sheets and didn’t do the laundry for a month. Her makeup went past its use-by date and had to be thrown in the bin. They were doing menial jobs and could only afford necessities like food and school uniforms for the boys. They were renting a flat in an area they hated. The boys shared a bunk in the second room and fought all the time.

She grew fat like her mother. She hated her body, her life and she started to hate him. Everything was so boring, there were no lights in her eyes when she moved. When she cried, no one applauded her theatrics. No roses were gifted to her after a performance.

Somehow she met someone. They’d known each other before and he still remembered her old body. She told her husband, ‘I’m moving out. I want the boys 50/50.’ She packed her old touring suitcase and went to live in silence half the time. But even this drama in her life wasn’t enough. It felt flat, empty, tired, sad. Her new man was a disappointment too. And she still couldn’t find her stomach.


Rowena Wiseman

Rowena Wiseman

Rowena Wiseman writes contemporary fiction, children’s stories and a blog for writers trying to get published www.outofprintwriting.blogspot.com.au You can read more of her microfiction on Wattpad at http://www.wattpad.com/story/12521925…


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