This is the beginning of my creative writing:
Spoiler
My earliest memory of my mother was watching her dance. As a child, I would sit in the stalls and watch her rehearsals, craning my neck to watch her whimsically whip her tulle tutu around her slim body. It elegantly hovered over the stage, never quite touching it, but always coming close. Under that golden proscenium arch, she was incandescent. Afterwards, we would run backstage, hand in hand. Praise and roses graced her and she soaked it all in. As I did I, whisking along right there beside her. Ballet and all its prestige, regality and vibrancy consumed me. But….
Any ideas where I can go from here? Please help me brainstorm! I will return the favour by helping you brainstorm your ideas as well, or I'll happily read over your creative writing to help!
I have already thought:
- Her mum is dying and she contrasts her beauty from her younger years to her in older age (however, I feel like this is cliché?)