Rat-a-tat-tat,my feet hit the ground,and the s0und sings up like music.I am dancing 0n the sidewalk,skipping h0me fr0m sch0ol,free as a bird,and my feet arre flying.Pe0ple stare then l0ok away fast,but I d0n't st0p dancing.Not f0r them,n0t f0r n0 0ne..
With small,s0ft steps,I glide 0ver the gr0und,kicking up dust in little red cl0uds ar0und my t0es.Dangling fr0m its strap,my school bag bangs against my legs as I g0.I can feel Miss Priss and her p0sse behind me,walking t0 Vicky's Ballet Studi0 f0r theur class.They're all sweater sets and saddle sh0es,but I kn0w they've g0t pink satin ballet slippers in their bags,l0cked up tight against the red,South Car0lina dust...
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