Reading Time: 2 minutes

I have two left feet, three left arms, and a non-functioning lobe in the left side of my brain.

Sounds sad?

It’s more embarrassing.

My mother was horrified, my father was unconcerned, my younger brother rubbed salt in my wounds all the time.

We were a family of artists.

My father a painter, my mother a writer, my brother a budding singer.

So what was left?

Of course, the next best thing.

Dance.

It was expected of me. This was the art form bound to my destiny.

However, some things aren’t meant to be. And this was my biggest tragedy.

The first day at dance school saw a shaky toddler, me, resembling a classic case of epilepsy.

No disrespect intended, but my body had no direction, no clue of tempo or rhythm.

My flailing and flapping must have scared the other children. Five days later, I was told to never return. Disappointment was added to my name.

But my mother battled to transform me. There had to be a dance form that would embrace me.

Salsa, contemporary, ballet, hip hop, jazz. It was a meaningless chase. I was a klutz, a natural dance offender.

I was advised to find greener pastures. My mother retorted that I wasn’t a cow even though a cow could probably dance better.

The obsessed woman even made me shimmy and shammy. But when I broke my leg, her composure broke too, and she left me to deal with my own inadequacies.

I abandoned dance, renouncing all its bitter memories. My feet were designed for walking and running.

Then one day I saw her. A stunning vision in red, her graceful moves unlike any earthly dance.

I dared to join her.

She was bewitching. I was still twitching.

On that note, we danced the night away.


He was alone till he found the girl. She was his newfound daughter. He could now die A Family Man.

Go on! Check out my Short Stories Books – Free on Kindle Unlimited
Woman's cracked abstract face with fire streaks
Two smiling potato faces on a couch on a
Shadow of vines on a brick wall

9 Comments on “Two Left Feet – Flash Fiction Story

  1. You are so versatile. I have seen flash fiction in so many genres from you. And now we have a funny story. Great!!

  2. Pingback: I Only Say MEOW - Flash Fiction Story | It Ain't Right Till I Write

  3. Hello Terveen, It is great to meet you here. Thanks so much for reading and commenting on my blog. I loved your story. A dancer is definitely a must to make up the composition of artists in the family:)

  4. A light & funny touch indeed:

    David Lee Roth, Eddie Van Halen & Michael Anthony]
    Ooh, baby, baby
    Won’tcha turn your head my way?
    Ooh, baby, baby
    Come on, take a chance, you’re old enough to
    Dance the night away
    Oh, come on, baby, dance the night away!

    Two left feet or not…

It Ain't Right Till You Comment. Go Ahead!

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.

%d bloggers like this: