Gen threaded her fingers together. I saw you dance here before you left for New York. She would forget she was on stage, tilting her head back, letting her arms flow. It was an involuntary reaction that she could no more prevent than the tears that lined her eyes. The woman nodded.
Dance is such a cruel discipline, even with the modern enhancements.
No matter how our technologies improve, our bodies still have limits. The woman looked at her measuringly. The tears threatened to spill. She shook her head slightly as if the movement could force the tears back into her tear ducts. Then she clutched her hands together, feeling the thin, fragile bones.