Brain Fart: Muscle Memory

Brain fart. I practiced that small thirty-second choreography over and over until it became muscle memory. I could have sworn I knew it so well I could perform in my sleep, but as soon as I met the intimidating gaze of my judge, I froze. When they taught the choreography during class a few hours prior, I felt no pressure and memorized every move with utmost precision. Any possible mistake I made would have been concealed by the other fifty dancers in the room. But right at a crucial moment during my audition for a local hip-hop dance team, I couldn't remember what the next move was. Any mistake I made this time would be painfully obvious and I would have no way to hide. Thirty seconds was all I had to prove myself worthy material for this