Laura

Music plays without warning. After a long spell in a dark, frozen tableau, the light streams in. I take my position on a mirrored platform and twirl in well-rehearsed circles. As I turn, I see her rummage through strings of beads and plastic rings. She pauses to watch me and fluff my tutu with a chubby finger. She hums my tune and closes the lid. I return to my statuesque hibernation until she bids me to dance again.