It began at 3 a.m. as another failed experiment. She wrote her shopping list on the back in hard lead pencil, sighed, and shoved it into the pocket of her tweed skirt. That day, she handled more invoices for the Milliken account, stubbed her toe on the filing cabinet, and – it must be confessed – nodded off into an inchoate dream, in which tidy rows of figures became gentle, supple shadows. That evening, when she took out the list, she saw a few lines had appeared on it from nowhere, suggestive of a figure. Over the years, she watched her emerge.
Image: Edgar Degas, Danseuse ajustant sa bretelle.
Image: Edgar Degas, Danseuse ajustant sa bretelle.
Posted to Magpie Tales.
ReplyDeleteFascinating take! Thank you.
ReplyDeleteYup. Like it. Heh. Now where oh where has my tiny dancer gone?
ReplyDeleteI like the idea of something beautiful and magical appearing in spite of the mundane daily round.
ReplyDeleteI'm intrigued that you spotted 'shadow writing'... :)
ReplyDeleteOh, this is wonderful!!!!
ReplyDeleteBeautiful...and I couldn't help but hear Walter Mitty's tapocketa tapocketa tapocketa...
ReplyDeleteMagical..just love how she emerges!
ReplyDeleteCool!
ReplyDelete=)
the ending is so...beautiful!
ReplyDelete