In the darkness of the park I could be beautiful. Among trees that could pass for elaborate halloween silhouettes I could be someone graceful. As my worn ballet shoes tread the rain washed path, soaking in the cold water, I move my limbs as if I were on a stage. My movements are lost under the black sky, the only tell-tale sign of my oddness the quiet scuffles of my feet. All too soon the yellow lamp-light of the street illuminates my true form and instead I revert to the shuffle that befits one of my stature and physical appearance.
