Girl Auditions 7: Curvy

On the way out, I passed the holding room. The other girls were still waiting, still sharp, still folding themselves into smaller versions of themselves. I unpinned number seven and held it in my palm.

The audition room was vast and hollow, a dance studio with mirrors that seemed to multiply every inch of me. The panel sat at a long table: three women, two men. One of them, a man in a black turtleneck, looked down at my form, then up at me, then down again. I knew that look. It was the arithmetic of possibility versus expectation. curvy girl auditions 7

I was auditioning to see if their stage was big enough for me. On the way out, I passed the holding room

“Whenever you’re ready,” the clipboard woman said. On the way out