Sapphic Pondering

Glow  Chapter 3:  Of Text messages and Sugared cookies -           Rosa, you’re moving your leg. Don't just do that. It’s too stiff. – Ryan took a step back and ran a hand through his tousled hair. His eyes narrowed in concentration. A bead of sweat rolled down his eyebrow, into his eyes, and he blinked it away. – You need to be flexible. The secret here is your hips. Move them, not just your legs. At his instruction, Rosa nodded curtly; her lips tightened in determination. She looked dishevelled. Her blonde hair was coming loose from her ponytail and falling around her face like a golden shawl. Sweat glistened on the back of her neck and beaded on her forehead. Her hoodie had been taken off due to the heat, leaving her in only a pink tank top and dark sweatpants, which were wrinkled and dust-stained from several hard falls. Rosa huffed and got down on the floor again. Her arms shook slightly from the pressure, but soon became steady when she started to move. A strai

Glow  Chapter 2: Accidentally in love Inna Coleman sometimes thought her friend was strange. According to her observation, Rosaline’s mind just simply refused to go the ordinary way. When Inna first met her in a music summer camp, she disliked the girl, having mistaken her quietude for haughtiness and superficiality. Rosa was extremely reticent with demeanour apparently screaming coldness. It didn’t help that she was a perfectionist who woke up too early in the morning and insisted every single details being perfect. Since Inna, an energetic and free-spirited girl, was her roommate during camp, Rosa’s overall countenance unnerved her. All in all, Inna used to think her friend was queer and vain. The key word here was “used to”. The first week, Inna tried her best to avoid the blonde. She didn’t talk to Rosa and the other girl didn’t do anything to lighten the mood. During the day, when the camp was bursting with activities, doing so was not difficult. Since Inna was in th

Glow Chapter 1: We were both young when I first saw you. -           Break dancing is hard!  – She muttered – whined to herself when she, for the 10 th time, had fallen on her rear. She had been practicing the 6-step for a couple of days now and still couldn’t get the hang of it. Her hands were too weak to keep her upper body up for long and her balance was terrible. Her palms were red for all the pressure she put on them and her legs were turning into jelly.  Sweats were collecting on her forehead and back, and she was huffing with exhaustion. She relaxed her arms and let her body fall wordlessly onto the wooden floor. Turning to lie on her back, she stared at the reflection of herself on the dark glass ceiling. She could see it clearly in her mind: an image that had played repeatedly ever since she started practicing, just a couple weeks ago. She was standing on a dark stage. The spotlight focused solely on her. The music was beating and thrumming. She took a deep breath a