marox_pass_the_introduction fyn gula no one actually knew why the music stopped, nimbia figured its moment was over, referring to the dance, for everything has its alloted time. nylem seemed satisfied that the brownies stopped playing. the last tune, "three blind mice" was so exhausting that he had to put his head between his knees, his chest heaving like a bellows. copello fidgeted inside the theatre. he knew the crowd was both anticipating and expecting greatness and the thrill of dancing, especially when it was spontaneous, was always difficult to follow. perhaps he would have to be funny, but the story he was to tell was tragic. he wasn't sure how nylem would react. sometimes it's our own heart that betrays us and when we are introduced to ourselves, we don't even know who we are. "fuck it," he said to himself, and he nodded to an old woman who had peeked in to tell him the audience was ready. her long, grey braids slapped against the plank wall as she stepped out to introduce the puppet play. she held a wooden recorder in her knobby-knuckled thin hands and as the crowd hushed, some still wiping sweat from their foreheads, she brought the instrument to her painted lips. the first notes were airy and weak, but as she continued, the song, although short was sweet and meditative, the perfect precursor. immediately, maylay, nabiscus, anton, and nimbia turned to each other in unmitigated recognition. it was unmistakably, "today is what you have," the trademark theme of copello's cirque petite. shivers ran down their spines. he was not lost after all. the old woman curtsied when she finished, stretching her taffeta skirt out on both sides. she looked like the girl on the swiss miss hot chocolat box, but about fifty-five years older. in a shaky voice she announced, "boys and squirrels, giants and soldiers of the black draegyn, senior friends, extinguished guests, ("she does mean 'distinguished' doesn't she? nimbia asked nabiscus, elbowing him.) ladies and jellyfish, and (spitting on the ground) nylem." hearing this, nylem, in a fit of explosive anger, hurled a chunk of turquoise the size of a softball. intended for the old woman, it hit the petrified wood of the theatre instead and shattered into a thousand pieces, most of it falling like a spray of fireworks into the laps of the children as they sat waiting for the story to commence in the front row. some of them kept the pieces and when they grew up had them made into rings, necklaces, and bracelets. when people would comment on the beauty, they would think back and not remember so much nylem's anger but more so copello's strange but poignant story that followed. the tale you are about to hear. once the crowd settled down again, the old woman continued. "welcome to copello's cirque petite!" she said with an unexpected exhuberance that caused the children to cheer wildly and then they grew quiet to hear more. "today's story is called, 'the dog bite felt around the world.' sit back and enjoy this wonderful show." 010704 ... log burning fire i had mine made into a wedding ring. 060312 what's it to you? who go blather from