Dance on the Water

Dance on the water

It was late. No: it was later. In a hurry he stood another few moments, grabbing in a swirl on his legs anything he could think would be of any use later on: keys, bags, fruits. And then ran out.

“Run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run run”
– Hey sweetheart, where are you running? – He got his cap off and tried to scratch his forefront with the very same hand, unsuccessfully so. – Have you got a minute? There’s something I’d like to talk about. Have you met the new guys yet? –
– I’m sooooo sorry… Can’t stop now, can’t. Can’t, you see! No way now, maybe… No. Sometime! Keep in touch! – He raised his thumb as he was passing beyond Gene already. Then waved backwards as he started to realize having been blunt but his legs were accelerating in the opposite direction and there was not much he felt like doing against them.
– Why always in a hurry? For what? – He was acting blatantly disappointed, almost about to throw an “acuto” at him, shrugging his shoulders and glueing his elbows to the pelvis as the forearms were opening in despair and agitating. – You can’t go anywhere always this fast, you know? You can’t be anywhere this fast. We’re all running to the same place! Take a break… F…ing… Hellll!!! – he shouted while a small child hit him bad at an ankle with her brand new toy bike.

For what, where… Why did he mind? Were actually there any answers? And for that matter… Were actually there any questions? He was being dragged by a current, a flow, and that was it. Or maybe actually not so much, as he was himself part of the dragging and he couldn’t withdraw. Was it less of a dragging for this reason and more of… Who knows what it was. Cooperation? Teamwork? Alignment? Harmony? Incantation? The big, big will of the big, big, bigger Universe? Or rather some form of mental illness he hadn’t heard of yet?
“I just have to go”. He tought of a terrific animated movie where some toy aliens were flowing with what they thought was the good dear divine will, and instead they were being manipulated by someone for unremembered shady goals and were rushing towards a bitter end. Maybe he was one such stupid alien; maybe he was a smarter alien. Or maybe there were many ways, all of them undeveloped and unknown, and he was getting on one of them just out of his gut instinct, lacking knowledge of any better methods after having challenged his rational machine to her deepest pit.

He was getting on a ship that was going to slide, by the way. A sliding ship.

– You sure? These things need a lot of equilibrium. – Caring colleagues, always there when you need them.
– Do I look like I don’t have? –
– Ah… Actually… Didn’t say. You did. – Actually… Ah? He was feeling confident and grounded. Maybe he was still looking upset because of the rush?
– Oh. What could happen anyway? –
– What? Whatever. –
– Whatever is good. Isn’t it? – Fear, uncertainty and doubt started to creep in.
– I guess it depends on attitude more than anything else. – They stood and stared at each other.
– Enough bullshitting, I’ll get in. Don’t stop me! – That finger was really, really laughable. Seriously so.
– Hahahaha… It’s your business buddy! Can I ask you just why? Is it some special day? – He winkled while sprinkling oil inside an engine.
– Yes. – The door opened.
– So? Which kind? –
– Today? –
– Yes. –
– That was an answer, not a question. – A thick silence broke into the room and set them apart for a few heart-years.
– But… Ok man… I prefer staying clean of all your craziness, so think and do whatever. – He got the gloves off, while a warming desire to hug him faded in. He resisted the impulse and just gave a smile, although a very open and surprisingly bright one.
– Thanks for allowing me, sweetie! – The door closed, breaking the handshake of their sight.

How would you feel in a vessel you don’t feel? One that has no handles to grasp, no controls to read, no floor, no ceiling. An empty vessel, almost non-existent. One that would respond to your thoughts as yourself would, and would let you feel the weight of its body and the thin air flowing over its surface as if they were your own flesh and your own skin.
Let me answer that: you would feel like the vessel itself, or maybe you would be the vessel. Likewise he was the ship, and the ship could stay suspended anywhere, centered on itself, or move. And would slide over surfaces, as if it would repel crashes by means of some kind of perfect, bounce-less and limitless invisible shock absorber.
He didn’t even know where those machines were coming from, supposing it was fair to consider them machines. Maybe some alien civilization had brought them or lost them, or some hyper-advanced past culture that had disappeared. Anyway, one day they were not there, and the day after humankind had them and pilots rode them. Maybe just… Some things happen too fast.

She would be there: it had always glaringly felt like a “gaze” kind of a date, one with no spoken deal. And she appeared indeed, behind trees, waiting on the shore of a big and calm lake. She was sitting down equanimous, straight and dignified, wrapped in a coarse black robe under which the shape of her body could be imagined much more than seen, and what was revealed was due to the belt straightening her waist. Her loose hair was following the footprints of the leaves in the light wind, or possibly vice versa, while the loose clothes were connecting her to the ground, upon which she looked as solid as a mountain but as alive as the green forest, which her gaze would embrace fully.

“Release” describes best what happened to him: everything fell sublimely and a calm energy started to flow. All was suddenly ok, it just made sense: he had come to dance for her.

His right arm moved and the vessel slid into play, center-stage, suspended over the still blue mass, the silver prow gazing at her. Her slight smile hadn’t diminished nor increased and she was ready.
– Then let’s dance together on the water. – He turned around and widened his arms.

The freedom of a bird has no plans. Feelings become cuts in the skies, movements lead themselves and spawn more, physical possibility develops into a partnership and then a symphony. And patterns form, change and then stabilize.

When it was time, he stood again in front of her and she smiled warmly. Both had enjoyed the dance, and both were enjoying the prize.

Shortly afterwards though, she suddenly became deeply upset: she got up and moved quickly closer to the shore. – That pattern you carved in the water, where have you seen it? – Her voice was trembling: she was scared. – Tell me just… Where? –

The wind was still shaking shutters in the bedroom: another rainy day was about to reveal.

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