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By Rosy Riley

I have an urge to do something, anything different. Unfortunately, now I'm 100 there's not so many things I can still do. My body aches and doesn't work like it used to. Fortunately, my hands can still stitch so I decide to make a dancing dress for my great granddaughter.

I gather all the little scrapes of fabric I can find, putting them all neatly into a pile. It was designed with lilac colours with a touch of green and beautiful floral patterns. I spend all day working hard at making it.

I sit quietly for a moment and hope for the chance to dance one last time. I pick up the spectacular dress and without quite knowing how I manage to slip it on. It fits perfectly. I go to my bathroom and put on a lick of make-up onto my fragile skin and pin my thin white hair up. I glance at myself in the mirror and catch my reflection. Oh my, not my 100-year-old self, but instead me as a beautiful young woman of 20. My heart soars with excitement.

I turn quickly and run down the stairs like I haven't been able to do in over 50 years. I rush straight out the front door and set off down the street. I run down the hill and over the bridge, yes, the old studio is still there. I am out of breath by running so fast.

I am so excited that I want to scream out loud. I know now for sure that I am going to dance my heart out once again. I open the door and I am hit by the same mustardy kind of a smell from all those years ago.

I walk in, up the stairs and the air is cold as it ever was. Lined up on the wall were pair after pair of pointe shoes. I pull out a pair and bend to strap them on. It was a routine I had done so many. Times before and I hadn't forgotten it at all. As I was sat there, I was recalled the exams I had taken, and I quiver with excitement.

I start the music player and I can feel my heart buzzing like a hire of bees. I have not moved my body like this for such a long time. My connection with the music is as strong as the moonlight beaming through the windows. As each beat plays the steps fly in and out of me. I am flooded with happiest of memories.

I have never danced this strong in my life, upping and downing my body, just like as if I am in a movie. As I land from a triple turn, I courtesy just as I would at the end of a show. Everything then stops.

The next morning, my carer comes to my house and tries gently to wake me. After my wonderful last dance, I've gone.