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The Dancer

by Ken Magee
Originally published by on 17/09/2018

The music starts up, the crowd hushes and I begin my dance: strong, elegant and honed by years of training.

Happiness abounds, but not for me. I am so very sad. This is my life, as it has been since my birth, for I am the dancing bear.

One day I get sick and they don’t make me perform. I love not dancing, so the next day I pretend to be sick, and the next day too, and the next. Life now is so good, I wonder if feigning sickness hard enough would kill me.

That’s when I’d find happiness.

Ken Magee Merits

9 most prolific5 most esteemed5 top drabble

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