She’s in Zen.

“When the soft clouds formed the image of a falling girl wearing ballet dancers’ attire, that was when She knew that She was starting to doubt herself. The piercing blue eyes She saved for only those who had earned them were staring up at the sky, which had changed itself to better suit Her wishes and to go with Her eyes. Others nearby would have said that the cloud actually looked like a doll or even an exotic animal, so perhaps they would say that She was mistaken. She knew that She wasn’t. The cloud reminded her of her dancing days. She was free from the strains of routines, but still practised them every now and again, ensuring that her arms could still fly elegantly and that her head was held up on strings as if by a master puppeteer, carefully moving her in a graceful manner, in a manner that could only be achieved after countless years of practice.

Her eyes scanned the skies for any remainder of her favourite light. She was disappointed, but soon realised that she would soon be seeing it again once the sun had disappeared for the day. A smile came back onto her face. Her lips were devilish and her mouth managed to convey innocence at the first glance; with a second, longer and harder look, you knew that they could be far more than innocent when they needed or wanted to be. They did not seem to last for very long, but when they stretched into a smile, they lasted for miles. Her eyes always went as bright as they could when she smiled. Many would say that she smiled with her eyes. When I knew her, she smiled with her whole body, but that was only when she was really pleased. I feel as if I can tell you that I saw that whole body smile several times.

She told me how scared she was. Although her dancing days were over and she no longer needed to work half as much as she used to, she was afraid of falling back into nothingness, falling into darkness and being once again whipped by cold winds like the ones that would work their way through the gaps in the door while she would practice with her classmates when she was much younger. They were the sort of winds that would turn a body to ice in no time at all. Some times, when her classmates had left after the lesson, she would stay, even after the lights had been extinguished for the day, and she would use the wind as inspiration and would find herself dancing like no-one had ever danced before, helped on and lifted by the winds’ own classroom dances.”


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