Writing Prompt: Tell us about Abigail
She had a short bob, Dorothy Hamill style, black, shiny and enviably straight. Her eyes were big, like a Kewpie doll, accentuated by the white face mime makeup. She wore white wide legged pants, a tucked in black shirt and rainbow suspenders with a big fake red rose pinned to the left strap just below her slight shoulders. Not tall, but leggy, Abigail had all the moves. And she smiled, a lot, which made her eyes appear to pop out of her head without seeming grotesque.
I'm not sure how I knew her real name, since her moniker for the disco dance class was Salt, her husband, Pepper. He was a taller version of her -
same outfit, dark hair. There were some other differences. He had curls
and a busy mustache, for instance. And he wore no rose.
He flung her around, a flying buttress of airborne sinew and
pantomime moves. And together they enthusiastically Hustled back and
forth, clapping, tapping, spinning and then telling us to do the same.
We were anything but smooth faced - 10 and 11 year olds approaching puberty with awkward self-conscious moves and fits of embarrassing giggles.
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