Mosca, Colorado gave her everything she could have hoped for after such a fall.
Like a hoofer in a blurry chorus line, once accomplished and admired, she faded fast and fell hard.
Down she went, cast aside. She turned a dangerous shade of gold on her plunge onto the varnished planks of an unseen stage.
Down she went, falling farther than she thought possible, all the way through the Great Sand Dunes National Park into the dry gleam of Mosca, Colorado.
Money wasn’t a problem. Her daughter, last heard from in Burbank, had given her a bundle.
Some of it went to buy the little grocery store where she stood behind the counter like a faded Inca princess.
