Elizabeth had experienced a long day. Her classes seemed like they were running together. New students who were taking her class that obviously had never taken a ballet class in their life; it made her work twice as hard. You would have thought the number one rule to get into that programme was experience? Apparently not. As she sat in her office on her sofa, she just ached for a moment to not have to go home, or for someone to tell her, maybe it will be better. With her students, they looked like they flopped like fish around the studio.
“God, these bloody students, why were I cursed with such terrible students?” Elizabeth mumbled to herself. Already stressed out from things at home with her ex husband. She didn’t care if she was talking to herself, or who heard. She just wanted to let out her frustrations to anyone who would listen.
Lo admitía, por primera vez en su vida se sintió terrible, no porque se lo dijeran directamente si no por el rostro de su profesora, aunque aquella era una materia optativa, estaba comenzando a arrepentirse de su decisión, mas cuando la escucho quejarse de aquella manera –Lo siento, pero algunos estamos aquí porque era un requisito y de entre las materias optativas pensamos que era lo mejor, si… lo digo por mi—trago saliva y le miro –por lo menos estoy haciendo un gran esfuerzo, espero que lo vea.
