Skating was for graceful girls, pretty girls. Girls with money. Not a girl like me.
I stepped onto the ice, my legs shaking so badly I wobbled a little. I couldn’t look at the panel of judges seated beside the rink; I couldn’t even look at my husband watching from the sidelines. For a second, terror struck: not just that I’d fall and fail in some spectacular fashion, but that I’d forget how to skate entirely. Read more at Catapult.
Categories: Freelance Articles