Practicing to Walk Like a Heron

Sequins

90 Sequins Hanging in the silver trailer her pickup pulls to every lot, 150 costumes sparkle in the light. She used to watch each act unfold, told herself one day she’d fly, dance along the wire, or twirl high over the center ring clinging to a spinning rope. Now she sews: repairs split seams, stitches galaxies of sequins, adds lace, fringe, a braided edge of gold. On her cot, after threading through another day, she sees the costumes sparkling on her ceiling, traces them floating in her sleep. And every afternoon and night, they shine under the spotlights like tiny stars. Sometimes she puts down her needle and walks to the tent, stands in 91 the entrance, and watches her sequins glisten in the capes of the Flying Alhambras. ...