Considered the most difficult, most graceful, and most tragic role in ballet. It took the minds of legendary prima ballerinas such as Lady Godiva Smythe who was often seen dancing sans leotard and tutu in the park adjacent to her townhouse. Dangerously exacting to the point of death; “Czarina” Svetlania Russinka of the Bolshoi died fanning herself with her feet to cool down entr’acte.
Marianna Pretzel dreamt, since her first toe shoes, of dancing the role. She could visualize herself in the oblique plies and contortion leaps. She vowed to make the role her own. But it is a seldom preformed ballet with a bleak reputation. To find a teacher, prepare, and re-launch might be more deadly and dangerous than the dance itself.
Seems meant to be, though, when she met Yoda Aardvark, a member of a semi-obvious secret society. Having chosen his society name, (combination of respected person and spirit animal), Aardvark now was on his round the world seeking tour. Over a cup of chia-pet tea and everything-free air balls, each shared their true inner calling of the moment. Marianna and her dance, Aardvark and his. He sought a 11th century text that prepared monks for a six-week long dance performance. With the text, dancers trained to the precision, perfection and stamina necessary, could recreate the ceremony.
Ms. Pretzel reached across the table, taking the blushing Aardvark’s hands in hers. “Let’s follow our dreams together,” she whispered breathlessly. “If I assist in finding the text . . .”
“Tthen, you sshall ttrain with us,” Aardvark stuttered, completing her sentence.
Across sky-touching mountain chains, through dripping rainforests. In monasteries haunted by ghosts of past dance masters and among the stacks of arcane, obscure libraries, they sought the Text. Secret meetings in dark alleys, shady auction houses, hermit’s estate sales. They were the Indiana Joneses, the Librarians of dance.
They documented their journeys on social media. Death. Text. Dance. was an extremely popular; at least a million subscribers to the blog; 5 million likes on face book; 10 million followers on tweetie-bird. Uploading the latest pictures of spelunking for the text in the caves of Prince Edward Island, Marianna found a cryptic comment on the blog from someone named anon., “Sent you the Text by email as a compressed file PDF. Would you prefer html version?”
“Put on my best undies to show you pose 265,” Marianna keyboarded. “Under the silk-lined, organic raw linen skirt, I have Awkward I mean Aardvark wrapped up in a Pretzel.” She clicked publish.
Written for Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie Photo Challenge 119