Please See : https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_eQQKVKjifQ
Cold. Cold- her, on the floor, like this, sat all criss cross’d and applesauced. Though sunbeams tried to extend their offerings, Evangeline sat just too near the barre to enjoy it. Staring, at the reflection of a Really Silly Someone staring on back at her. Stupid girl. All tumbled and tossed like one’a those thumb puppets after being pushed too hard.
A foot climbs its way into the air - toes at a lovely point, rest of limbs remaining in a sleeve of wraps and bandages which Madame deemed necessary. The fact alone that Madame still afforded the room and board for her, the scrip and scrap of croissant or sold-too-late-muffin : what did those doctors know, really? Textbooks and print, posters and models - not someone who’s crafted for their craft. Evangeline and Madame remain convinced this was a hiccup.
A drop from extension until heel finds wooden floor. Makes the pigeons that had been seated outside of window sill trickle on away - rattles Evangeline enough so she reaches for it. Bent and twisted until foot is cradled in those little palms, and she could properly glare at the damn thing.
She’s accustomed to being more in control of all of this. Her body ; the twitches ; the limits. Evangeline knew better than anyone how far she could pull this from that. How tiny and close she could tuck any of her on in. How she just misses cues by that very final moment if she’s too nervous to listen to the music properly. How she can’t let this go.
And mostly, a consideration understood yet sorely loathed, how this stupid foot will not quite cooperate with what she’s so very quite certain she knows it could do. The other can do it. It could do it before. She knew it could.
But here she is.
Here’s a cherub’s pout at psyche - the rose pondering said thorn.
Squinting and chastising at her bandaged foot.
( you know, the one that’d twisted funny post-performance last show? )
Alone in the studio typically reserved for her Toddler Classes.
( you know, the ones she hadn’t been allowed to teach for a few weeks )
Brain just a bit hazy from those pills the doctor gave her.
( he said two, she can only stomach one )
Off the floor! She shan’t be so Cold anymore. Wasting her time on the floor, how silly, what a silly girl is she! -- injured foot furthers and props upon barre: Evangeline only bends to press cheek against mirror and smear a powder peach blush ‘gainst glass. Get a better look at that silly foot. See exactly how far she could stretch the toes before the pain left her white’knuckled against her holdings...
She can fix this. The sun’s risen enough so, even at the pitiful height of her, beams opportune to tickle against bared collarbones if Evangeline dares a glance to the windows. The room will be whole again. More pitter patters of babies and ballet shoes.
Piano, playing, the scene not quite caught in confidence. Hers.
One Day. Some Day -- a SOON Day...
She hopes. Oh, she hopes.
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