Tag: Dances

DANCING: DANCING QUEEN By Nan Ressue

Word Dancing
Word Count 404
DANCING QUEEN
By Nan Ressue
“Come on pig. If you are going to travel with us, you’re going to have to step it up,” ordered the sheep leading the flock.
“Yeah, yeah, I know all your complaints,” the goat chimed in. “Short legs, dragging belly and you forgot your lunch. Even dummies know we have to get there before the sun comes up so we can still see the star.”
I’m far too refined to point out that sheep are stupid and have no mind of their own and that goats are gluttonous and ignorant risk takers. I, on the other hand prefer the finer things and am preparing for my dancing debut. But both the shepherds and the farmers are following this star to a rendezvous which has no equal. I hear that the family we will visit is in a barn so animals would be welcome too, right? Nobody will notice if a medium sized pig slips in, right?”
“Oh merciful heavens! I hope it’s not much further. That arrogant sheep does realize that short legs go twice as far as long legs and for some reason the curl is gone out of my tail. Just when I wanted to look nice.
I’m glad we’re nearly there. I think I can see the shed.
We all crept quietly into the barn so as to not wake up the baby. There was the beautiful young mother, smiling and beckoning us to come closer.
“Oh dear. Where did my manners go? I forgot my present for the baby. Good thing it’s dark so nobody can see that my snout is turning red.”
Hmmm…I wonder if that boy with the drum standing in the corner would play a rhythm for me? Maybe tonight is the time for my debut!
With a yes for the answer, I bowed to the mother and the babe and took my position in front of the manger. Rata tat, rata tat, rata tat tat tat beat the drum. Sway left, sway right, circle and bow, sway again, rise up on two feet and twirl for a grand finish… Was it OK?,” I thought to myself. “Did they like it?”
The mother smiled and my heart was full.
A wonderful warm feeling made me turn to look over my shoulder and watch my drooping tail slowly begin to form the most beautiful spiral . What a fine night this is turning out to be!
MERRY CHRISTMAS

DANCES: A Brief Introduction To Kuflex By Mike Ceccoini

Word: DANCING

Word Count 500

A Brief Introduction To Kuflex

By Mike Ceccoini

 

It was difficult enough, as a newly faster-than-light humanity made contact with the extra-solar races, to figure out how to translate each of their written and spoken languages back and forth to the more-commonly used Earth tongues. Depending on the syntax, depending on whether it was phonetic or non-phonetic, we would start off with North American English or Mandarin Chinese, respectively, generally.

 

Sometimes it was easier, when a species we already knew had previously made contact, serving as a Rosetta Stone between us and them. Sometimes it was harder, when we came into contact with planets that had millions of different languages within a global culture. Some species only speak and do not write, some it’s the other way around. Some use heartbeats or variations in their breathing. Some species use only pictures and others still speak in pure math.  

 

Interstellar wars are occasionally started and often just barely evaded over misunderstandings of the intricacies of language when only the basics were understood. On Earth to this day after all in some city-communes the Your Mother joke will be received with laughter, while in others it will be received with a laz-shank to the ribcage. We are of course not so different from anyone else.  

 

Still, the hardest language of all to translate was that of the Kuflex, a people who communicate solely through the art of dance. The word “Kuflex” itself is just onomatopoeia for the sound of a quick left-foot shuffle and a bend of the right knee. There is no “word” for their name, there is only that dance move. Our word is merely an approximation of their meaning.

 

As the great xeno-lingual historian Lucee Quan-Ramirez once noted, we are actually lucky how much like us the Kuflex are in terms of having four limbs with bilateral symmetry, not plasmoid like the Illani or having seven irregular limbs like the Oru. We are at least biologically equipped to “speak” with them, after the eleven years to took to figure out how to say “hello, we dance in peace” as the old Kuflexi phrase goes.

 

All their communication is either watching each other dance in-person or in videos of each other dancing. They paint, as we do, though you applaud in their art galleries by clicking together your heels instead of clapping. They sing too, just like Earth humans, though there are no words, just in tones rising and falling, not unlike the sound of a low-registered flute.

 

As a species of dancers, of course, the Kuflexi make love spectacularly. I myself have had lovers in both of the two of their seven genders that roughly equate to female and I must agree with the adage “once you go Kuflex, to humans you’ll never reflex.” But most fascinating, in my opinion, is how the only time they ever go dancing as couples is when they want to whisper to each other.

 

That is what a waltz is to the Kuflex, a tender secret sweetly shared with only one.

DANCES: Bad to Worse By Sally Madison

Word: DANCING

Words: 499

Bad to Worse

By Sally Madison

 

“Are you comfortable, Mademoiselle?” Paulette asked, as she fluffed the pillows.

 

“Yes, Paulette. Thank you.” Elizabeth answered.  She was suffering considerably, having fallen down on her bottom.

 

“If you are comfortable, now, I will see you in the morning. Should you need anything, please just pull the bell cord.” Paulette responded.   

 

After Paulette had left her, Elizabeth thought of all the fun everyone was having, dancing, and how Pierre probably would have danced with her. After awhile…that urge.  She should have gone while Paulette was still here, but didn’t need to at the time.  Usually she would throw the covers back and scoot to the edge of the massive bed. Tonight, there could be no ‘scooting’.  She threw the covers and tried to ‘wiggle’ to the edge of the bed.  Oh, the pain. Oh, that hurts.  She stopped and thought again.  She rolled onto her stomach, and wiggled her way to the edge of the bed, with legs straight out to feel for the floor, as her night dress clung to the bedding.  Finally, her toes found the floor and she pushed on the bed until she was upright.  Now, if she could just reach under the bed.  Oh, there was no squatting to reach, tonight.  She bent to the right … no, not far enough. She bent to the left and could barely reach her objective.  She tugged, and tugged again, until finally, she had it clear of the bed. Facing away from the bed, she took the pot cover off and tried to sit it on the floor, but the floor was too low for her reach.  Crash! The cover went to the floor and rolled across the bedroom, toward the door.    Holding up her night dress, she gently tried to squat. Oh, that hurts too much.  She turned facing the bed, holding her night dress with one hand and the rumpled bed sheets with the other.  Ok, that worked.  But when she tried to raise herself back up, the bed sheets let loose, and she fell backwards on her already black and blue bottom. The pot tipped over, and the contents spilt on her nightdress.  Oh, the pain! She couldn’t get to her feet. So she crawled along her bed, until she could reach the bell cord.   

 

Paulette walked into the room, to find her mistress on the floor in a humbling position.  Elizabeth’s red, contorted face reflected something between pain and shame. Tears already welled in her eyes now flowed freely.  Paulette exclaimed, “Oh, mon ami, do not cry! We will have you back to bed, quickly.”  

 

After Elizabeth had been cleaned and freshened, Paulette went to the dressing table and retrieved a hair ribbon, which she tied to the bell cord, and pinned to Elizabeth’s pillow.  “Now, Mademoiselle Elizabeth, should you need assistance, just pull the ribbon. Is there anything else you need?”

 

“Yes,” replied Elizabeth.  “I need this night to be over!”  

Paulette smiled and replied, “Good night,” as she left the room.  

DANCES: DANCING QUEEN By Nan Ressue

Word Dancing

Word Count 404

DANCING QUEEN

By Nan Ressue

“Come on pig.  If you are going to travel with us, you’re going to have to step it up,” ordered the sheep leading the flock.

“Yeah, yeah, I know all your complaints,” the goat chimed in. “Short legs, dragging belly and you forgot your lunch.  Even dummies know we have to get there before the sun comes up so we can still see the star.”

I’m far too refined to point out that sheep are stupid and have no mind of their own and that goats are gluttonous and ignorant risk takers.  I, on the other hand prefer the finer things and am preparing for my dancing debut.  But both the shepherds and the farmers are following this star to a rendezvous which has no equal.  I hear that the family we will visit is in a barn so animals would be welcome too, right?  Nobody will notice if a medium sized pig slips in, right?”

“Oh merciful heavens! I hope it’s not much further. That arrogant sheep does realize that short legs go twice as far as long legs and for some reason the curl is gone out of my tail.  Just when I wanted to look nice.

I’m glad we’re nearly there.  I think I can see the shed.

We all crept quietly into the barn so as to not wake up the baby.  There was the beautiful young mother, smiling and beckoning us to come closer.

“Oh dear. Where did my manners go?  I forgot my present for the baby.  Good thing it’s dark so nobody can see that my snout is turning red.”

Hmmm…I wonder if that boy with the drum standing in the corner would play a rhythm for me? Maybe tonight is the time for my debut!

With a yes for the answer, I bowed to the mother and the babe and took my position in front of the manger.  Rata tat, rata tat, rata tat tat tat beat the drum. Sway left, sway right, circle and bow, sway again, rise up on two feet and twirl for a grand finish…  Was it OK?,”   I thought to myself.  “Did they like it?”  

The mother smiled and my heart was full.

A wonderful warm feeling made me turn to look over my shoulder and watch my drooping tail slowly begin to form the most beautiful  spiral . What a fine night this is turning out to be!

MERRY CHRISTMAS

 

DANCES: In and Out of My Life By Peg Scarano

Word:  Dancing

Word Count: 465

 

In and Out of My Life

By Peg Scarano

 

Sometimes you need to experience a heart filled with loneliness in order to truly appreciate the fullness of a heart bursting with love and the peaceful feeling of family and home.  Kids are key.

When they are little, loneliness is a foreign concept – so far away and out of reach.  But when they grow up and move away – foreign takes on a whole new meaning.

 

The oxymoron of it all is this:  You spend your entire life teaching your children to be independent, to make wise choices and to grow into their own person and live their own lives.  If you are not successful at your parenting, they may stick around and become a thorn in your side.  However, if you are successful, they do just what you taught them to do – pack up their bags, books and belongings and begin their own life adventures without ever looking back.

 

You cannot admonish them for making great choices and following flourishing careers.  You can only pat yourselves on the back and congratulate each other for doing such a great job raising them and then spend lonely days being proud of their accomplishments.

 

Holidays become even more special than they used to be.  They are like birthdays and Christmas for little children – anticipated with such joy and eagerness.  Preparations for the homecoming means more work, but even changing the sheets, buying extra groceries, baking, cooking, setting the table and cleaning become less of a chore and more a part of the anticipation of making new memories and sharing quality time all together.

 

Finally, the day comes when they arrive!  It’s a very long day filled with anxiety about everyone arriving safely whether they are flying or driving.  My stomach is aflutter with butterflies as if I were going to my first prom.  While the last minute preps are not getting my hair, make-up and nails done, it is just as important to check each bedroom to be sure everything is just as it should be and make certain all of their favorite foods and treats are ready and in plain sight.

 

Here come the cars.  The dog jumps out prancing and bounding with excitement.  Out roll the girls dancing up the walk with their smiles lighting up the darkness of the evening.  This is the feeling I love in my heart.  They all rush in the door to get warm, but I don’t need the heat of the furnace to keep me warm.  They warm me to my soul.

All too soon our dance comes to an end.  More precious memories have been embedded in my spirit and I will relive these along with the older ones and fight my loneliness until the next time my children dance back into my life to make it whole again.

DANCES: The Wolf Waltz: Dancing through the Ages by G. Ackman

Word: Dances

Word Count 497

 

The Wolf Waltz:  Dancing through the Ages

by G. Ackman

 

The wolf sat imperiously at the top of the hill, his grizzled face surveying the pack below.  Seven females, two adolescent males, and four pups milled around, aware of him and waiting for his signal that they were heading out to hunt.  His eyes softened when he gazed on the pups.  They were fine looking animals, three girls and one boy.  The boy, rambunctious and energetic, never gave his mother any rest.  The old wolf knew his mate did not really mind.  It was a sign that the youngster had what it took and would someday be reigning over the pack.  The alpha male with his thick gray and white fur looked around and was content.  Food had been plentiful and tonight’s hunt would result in full bellies for another few days.  He sniffed the air and knew that winter’s bite was still weeks away and that tonight’s moon would light a silver path through the forest as they stalked their prey.

 

He lay down for a bit of a rest, but kept his head erect, his eyes alert, and his nose constantly reading the landscape, always ready for any intimation of danger towards his pack.  He had been the alpha male for seven long years, mating early each spring with the alpha female.  Someday, when he was gone, she would be alone, would not mate another.  The new alpha male – one of the adolescents playing with the pups down below? Or the little male pup that was even now crouching and stalking his sisters?  Either way, the old wolf knew the day would come when one of them would challenge him and this time, he would lose.  

 

It was the way of things.  A delicate dance choreographed eons ago and played on this dance floor every year.  The partners changed, the music shifted but never stopped, and the dance went on.  This was his dance, begun when he was little more than a weanling.  He had challenged the old alpha and lost in a battle that had been a ferocious clash of fang and claw.  Even now, he bore the scar on his right shoulder and it pained him a bit when he knew the rains or snows were coming.  He limped slightly when the day’s travels took him far afield. It was another sign that the music of his dance was on its last verse.  He had lost that first challenge, and the second, and the third.  But then, suddenly it had been his turn, and he had been the victor.  The old alpha lay bleeding on the dueling ground.  He had assumed his place on the dance floor and had ruled wisely and well.

 

It was nearly time for the night’s hunt, but first he would rest.  His weary head slowly descended to his paws and his golden eyes watched as the young pups played and the adolescents showed off.  It was good.  As he slept, the music changed and the pack kept dancing.

DANCES: Dances By Anne Nassar

Word: Dances

Word Count 512

Dances

By Anne Nassar

His mother died in a car accident, when he was twelve. He began having panic attacks that were so severe, he sometimes ended up in the hospital. He was told that he had a heart condition and advised to “stay home as much as possible”. He was happy to comply. He disliked school.

Most mornings when he didn’t go to school, he walked across town to his grandmother’s house.She painted in the mornings. She didn’t like to be disturbed, so he would let himself in and make breakfast.She left books and articles that she thought he ought to read in his “mailbox” – just a shirtbox with his name on it. As he ate, he would read.

When she emerged from her “studio”, they’d talk about what he’d read. He loved talking to her, because she spoke to him like he was her intellectual equal. He realized that he wasn’t – she was exceptionally intelligent, and uncommonly informed.

When he didn’t understand what she was talking about, he just nodded and kept his mouth shut. She would take him out to lunch at the Polish restaurant. They were usually joined by one or more of her friends. Through listening, he eventually learned to understand Polish, although he never could speak it.

After lunch, it was time for her nap, so he would take out the garbage or dig up weeds or whatever she needed him to do, and he’d go home. His father got home from work at around six. He began drinking straight away.  His tolerance was incredibly high. He almost never seemed drunk.  Once he began drinking, his father would not leave the house, no matter what happened, no matter what invitation came his way. He was in for the night, every night at six. And he was asleep in his armchair, in front of the tv, every night by ten.

All of this changed with the advent of Jeanette. She was one of his father’s students. Along with her final exam, she handed in a note, suggesting that she would be receptive to any advances that her professor made. Their courtship was brief.  Their marriage took place a year and a month after the first Mrs. Muller died.

Jeanette was a very social person. She never wanted to be alone. She was happiest in a room full of people, with all eyes upon her.  She expected to be taken to dinner parties and concerts and fundraisers – any event where there would be dancing. He didn’t like Jeanette very much. They had nothing in common. Her incessant chattering irritated him. He thought, secretly, that she was self-centered, dumb and extremely judgmental. But there was no denying that she adored his father.  For his father’s sake, he tried to get along with her. On Mondays, they played cards. Oftentimes, he would throw the game, just to make Jeanette happy. She became fond of him, if only because she liked to win.

So, growing up, he had two mother figures. But they did not make up for the loss of his mother.