Bastian Theater, and as Wendy Kincaid finished her closing speech, walked offstage and disappeared behind a heavy velvet curtain, she beamed with pride. The cozy campus theater was filled to capacity, including the VIP sections rimming the back row and the balcony, and Wendy couldn’t have been more pleased. This would make the first year that she wouldn’t end up owing the St. Louis Community College rental fees on the back end because she had finally accomplished her goal and filled every seat. That alone was reason enough for celebration but definitely not the only one. The other reason that she was so amped was because this year’s fall dance recital had been the best one yet. She’d been on pins and needles all evening as one group after another had taken to the stage and dazzled the audience. Thank God there hadn’t been any mishaps or injuries, only loud, enthusiastic applause. And, judging by the looks on the faces of various audience members every time she’d peeked out from behind the velvet curtain, the recital had done exactly what it set out to do—celebrate the art of dance, spectacularly.
