Portrait Of A Dancer

Part I of Essay
It was a sweet-as-molasses, sleepy Sunday afternoon in the middle of July. The heat was especially torrid as I walked in direct sunlight along the road leading to the water's edge. I was cooled by a gentle breeze as I drew closer to the small lapping waves and left the towe ....

Part II of Essay
.... loving group had an iron will and strong opinions. No one was willing to remain quiet, not even to keep the often fragile peace at these reunions. I was just as guilty as the others. At least our dinner table talk was never boring! It certainly would not be tonight. Because I was determined that this would be the night that I would tell my grandfather that I wanted to be a professional dancer. A rude gull squawked near my ear, rousing me from my reverie and I turned and walked purposefully back to the house, determined to find the courage ....