Nelly

Sitting opposite her were bulging, curious eyes. Cradling her face, beautiful blonde hair dipped in a bowl of soup as she leaned over. Jealousy arose from the elderly woman, analyzing her granddaughter from every angle. This young girl, only ten, was already a star in their hometown. The woman began to regret her decision to release her granddaughter into the world of theater. She began to regret her decision to let her into the world at all.
The girl liberated the spoon from her hand and sat with a straight back against the chair.
“Eat it all, Nelly. We have four hours of rehearsal tonight.”
Reluctantly, the young girl hunched her back over the bowl of soup and continued sipping.
“Sit straight, Nelly, you’ll throw out your back that way. Then how will you dance?”
Again, stubbornly, she sat straight up and continued.
“Why aren’t you eating, Gramma?”
The woman shook her head and raised her eyebrows, as if searching for an answer.
“I’m not hungry. You, hurry up, we have to get to the theater so that I can unlock it.”
“I’m not hungry either, Gramma. We can go now.”
Tired of attempting to shove food down the child’s throat, she gave in. When she stood, she could tell that her bones had experienced years of work. Secretly, she planned on giving her granddaughter the same feeling as an elder. The coat rack sat not far from the dinner table, and was suddenly nude as the couple opened the door and stepped into the cold air.
“Gramma, can I have a new coat?” Nelly found it difficult to speak through chattering teeth.
“Find a coat on one of the costume racks and you can have it.”
The young girl smiled, attempting to look pleased, although she knew that there was no chance that there was going to be one coat inside the theater. Many had gone missing in the past month, while others aren’t even worth being called coats after their years under the grueling stage lights.