Hannah’s stomach is in knots. Maybe it’s because her youngest daughter hasn’t slept in three
weeks. Maybe it’s because Hannah hasn’t slept in six. Yes. So perhaps it’s because she’s tired,
and there’s barely enough time to drop off her eldest at school and then her youngest at daycare
before she has to be at work so that she can teach all the other mothers’ children. Maybe it’s
because she’s tired and she doesn’t have enough time, and she doesn’t even like that work. Yes.
It may be because she’s tired and doesn’t have enough time and doesn’t have enough money, and
all she wanted to be was a dancer, and then all she wanted to be was a mother, and now she
doesn’t have to time to be either. Maybe it’s because on the one day that her husband promised to
watch the kids while she took class for herself, he showed up mid-class and dropped off the kids
because they were too fussy. Maybe it’s because she’s tired, and she’s driving, and she’s putting
carrots into baggies and begging the babysitter not to let her daughter sleep all day. Maybe it’s
because she’s on the move but not moving. Hannah is a thing that needs to be moving in the
world, constantly, spinning on her feet and feeling air on her face, dancing, dancing, not driving.
Maybe it’s because she’s not dancing. Yes.