Posted inMemoir

Dancing Daydreams in a Penitentiary

I’d spent so much of my youth digging through dumpsters; it only followed that I’d play and dream in them for hours, alternating between martial arts hero—leaping and slipping onto the soft trash—and spinning body contortions in front of an awed audience as my fantasy switched to stage dancing. In those trashcan moments, I was neither lonely nor helpless.