Hand-Wash Only

This is a memory from when I was 11 years old. It's about my first love.

The royal blue leotard billowed like a sail in the crisp sink water. Unsure of exactly how to hand-wash an item of clothing, I submerged it and then watched as the water took hold of it, darkening the royal blue so it became navy in places and, where the water had less touched it, cobalt as the sun streamed in.

Ballet was my calling. I had found what I’d…