Dancer And The Angel

• Zara Vale, Grade 9
• Short Story
• 2020

It’s strange; as he walks to the wooden frame he can hear his heartbeat clicking in his ears like a countdown. His blood vibrates in his ears and sounds like a harsh lullaby. But he’s not scared. His head is high and as he sees the angel, he tilts his chin a little farther up, proudly exposing his nostrils to the audience of crows.
They take him to the stage where he must perform. They’d like to think that he’s been dragged but he knows better, knows that it is with pleasure that he must dance now. A mask is given to him, a plain one, and a necklace draped across his collar. He is in costume.
All is ready.
He can see through the mask, just a little. He sees the angel. The angel has a mask, too. It’s darker than his, and has slits in it.
The crows rustle their feathers impatiently. What’s the hold up?
Bowing his head courteously to them, he stands as high as he can in the position he has been allowed, and as the stage is given its final preparation, he hears the music swell.
A lever is pulled.
The lights go up.
The show begins.
The man is dancing. He swings, and behind the mask his excitement is squeezed from every part of his face. He is dancing, and the crows like it. The caw and cry and some even take flight, soaring around the amphitheatre to see better.
As his performance comes to a shuddering halt, he can hear the last vestiges of applause and knows it’s for him.
He is happy.

Now that the curtains have been drawn, the angel must come for the encore.