“I can’t eat. I can’t sleep. Life seems to be crashing on me. Some say I must die. He says I will not, that I will not be punished. I don’t know what will happen in the end. I am weary now. I don’t know that I’ll ever be happy again. Just thinking about it makes me sad. And I can’t seem to stop. I miss her so much.
I will miss the children too, and all. She was my partner, my friend. How could this happen, all over again? Perhaps I should know, or may be they should have known. I did try to make people happy. The smile on their faces makes me even want to try harder. And the children-Oh Lord, what am I going to do now?
To wager to dance now is real; for she is there no more. I liked the way she moved, and her ponytail waggled with grace, as we swayed from side to side, into ecstasy that would turn even the bacchanal priest green. Her black and white wraparound makes us ever more kin, and she emancipated my soul as she stroked me with joy revealed.
Now the bathtub bothers me that she is not here, and to be free again is perhaps the way out. It will pain to watch the children cry and go back home because I can’t dance. I want to dance for them and make them smile, and not spread gloom to innocent souls that know not what is tearing me apart.
So why don’t you set me free, to be back with my own, now that she is gone. It should never happen again, that to revel with the coif will take her away for good from me. It was for me just a dance, another dance and one that I cherished so much, as she was closer this time, down here with me.
I feel for those that want me to die. For one, it seems they don’t want it to happen again, even if some see me as evil to snatch such a gentle soul away. Indeed, it makes me want to die. She really still ought to be here; to be my friend, and be happy as she was with me, as me too would rather not be with anyone else.
It is sad that she did not know that little do I know about much else, other than dance with her and make the children happy. Someone should have told her, how far my mind goes, and that as much as our dance makes all feel so good, that I am just who I am. I wish I could let her know, but now it is too late.
She cared for me as her own. It did not seem she could trade her love for me for anything else, even if somehow she could read my mind that our dance could take her away from me, for good one day. As probably not for one moment would she think that I would do anything to hurt her. And that I wouldn’t, ever, is true.
It was an accident. A terrible mix-up that nature alone explains as sometimes even love could sour, for reasons not anyone may never foresee. Even in the wild they watch me dance, and my fountain sprout to spread joy to many from far and wide. Their, they dance with me too, some even down with me where music waves play for inspired souls.
To be sure, I have been everywhere, thanks in part to Wegener’s drift. Some would say my minke cousins tell us to move. As indeed, may be some would bicker to pare me for dinner. Many though would rather see me live, and make the children’s day. But she is gone, and I am all alone to dance on my own and cry also so alone.
Give me another chance I pray. I know she would want me to be here, and she would too be here with me, for us to dance another day, for all to be happy again. I want to remain here, as she would wipe my tears away. I know she has forgiven me, to act in such a mortal way. She knew my soul is pure, just as hers was and will always be.
So why don’t you set me free, but not to back in the wild, where in fact my soul begs to be left alone to roam. The children need me here. As much as it seems so cruel, as some would doubtless say, for me to live with three lives all gone away, let me spend the rest of me making the children play.
Life it seems is short, too short to wither away, in pain when for real you have no gain. I wish she would come back to me but there again my wish can only be in vain. Yet, she is right here with me, even if in spirit, ready as usual to engage me in a dance for all to see. I must be ready too, as that is where she would want me to be, in spirits good to dance.
With my weary soul now refreshed, my tail stronger and ready to woggle, it would soon be time to dance away. She would give me the strength and the will. There is nothing really to gain letting my emotions reign, and all back home not entertained. I will dance again, with her, and for her, and for all to be happy again.”
“Dad, it’s just there on one spot. It looks so sad.”
“Yes, my dear. It seems to want to cry.” Anna responds before Jim apparently could.
“It must be for her.” Jim’s voice seems somewhat subdued. He holds his daughter’s hands as she asks for whom.
“Sshhhh” With her right index finger across her pouted lips, her husband seems to understand. But not, Jane, who presses on as they walk away, and it turns round and swims away.
