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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2018077-Harlequin
Rated: 13+ · Short Story · Drama · #2018077
Once a performer, always a performer
A harlequin. A silent woman clad in a checkerboard suit with white and black powder covering her face and a crazed smile that graced her black lips. She stayed silent as she performs for a crowd of nobles. Flipping and twirling in the air and walking on her hands along the tiled floor as they ate and drank profusely. Their drunken jeers and laughter at her acrobatic tricks and her strange contortions of her body are the only words of encouragement she received. As their laughter grew louder and louder, she began to trip over her own two hands as she walked on her frail appendages. Her thin wrist gave out from under her and her body fell forward and she landed with a bang on the hard checkerboard floor. She laid on the cold ground for a few seconds before she realised the reality of her mistake. Her eyes became wider than dinner plates and she quickly pushed herself up with her thumbs and began to walk on her hand once more. But it was too late. The nobles noticed. They began to curse at her and throw their third or fourth servings of their dinner at her. She was hit with roasted duck and pork, silver plates and utensils, full goblets of wine, and a pitcher full of rum. Despite all the objects being thrown at her tiny figure, she stood up straight, smiled, and bowed slightly to all the nobles. She walked calmly towards the large wooden door while the nobles were still cursing and throwing. She pushed the large doors open and walked away from the gray stone castle into the desolate countryside.



As she walked along the craggy path, she wiped away the white and black powder that had covered her fair skin. She removed the black paint off her thin lips that are no longer graced with a smile, but a small frown. Her hands became stained with the black and white paint and powder. She wiped her hands over her small stomach and smeared the powder and paint all over her black and red checkerboard suit. She pulled her hood back off her head and pulled out the black string and pins that held her messy short hair in a bun. She shook out her strawberry blonde hair and let it dance in the soft wind for the first time in many days. The moon shone brightly along the rocky path. The dust her boots kicked up sparkled in the white moonlight and the light from the moon and stars created a light shadow of her body that laid along the fields of rye and barley that bordered the path. Tiny brown moths and teal dragonflies flew in circles in the dark nightsky and gray field mice scurried across the path with small insects in the jaws and jumped into the fields the bring the bug to their offspring. The quiet wind blew along the tops of the grain stalks and they swayed in the breeze as if they were dancing a strange waltz with the wind. The harlequin watched the way the grains danced. She began to move her body with the grass, rocking softly with the breeze.



She removed her black boots and violently tossed them behind her. As the wind picked up, her dancing became more quick and zany like the grain. She twirled and and twisted down the path as if she was a leaf in the air. Her arms flailed and her toned legs flew in the wind like blades of grass. Her feet kicked up clouds of dust as she spun along the path that created a nebula of dusty stars around her small form as she dances. Her nebula of dust grew and grew as she danced. She kicked up small pebbles and they flew into her nebula. They became tiny planets that orbited around her body. Her dust nebula grew and grew until the cloud was taller than her and expanded far beyond her body. It encompassed the path and the fields around her and the insects above her. A galaxy of dusty stars and pebble planets had formed around her. Moths and dragonflies rocketed through her galaxy like comets and asteroids. Everything was circling around her as if she was the force holding it all together. It was as if the stars and moon above her and the rocky path below her didn't exist. All that existed was her and the cloudy galaxy she had formed around herself. She was the goddess holding it all together and she could destroy it if she desired to. The power of a goddess entered her body and flowed through her veins. She was no longer a simple harlequin. She was a force that was holding the existence of an entire universe in her black and white powdered hands. She spun faster and faster and her galaxy grew and grew until it was too far beyond her reach for her to control any longer. The dust on the outer regions of her cloud began to settle on the tops of the fields. The pebbles flew in directions that were out of her range. She was beginning to tire. She did one final twirl before circling her big toe around in the dirt and stopping her dance. She turned around slowly. Her galaxy extended for many yards behind her. The starry dusty cloud began to sink onto the path and the fields. The moths and dragonflies scattered into the night air and the pebbles fell upon the ground once more. She curtsied to the dust, pebbles, and the insects and flashed them a small smile.



She suddenly felt a sense of relief wash over her. Hot tears began of stream down her face and she wiped them away with her checkered arm. She had to let go of the checkerboards and the black and white powder and paint. In a slow motion, she undid the white buttons on the front of her suit and peeled it off of her body. She stepped out of her undergarments and threw all of her clothing onto the dusty road. Her naked body became pure white in the moonlight and she appeared to be a spirit that had descended from some place holy. She stared up at the full moon with her cornflower blue eyes. Her lips formed a gleeful smile and she stepped off the path and began to walk through the fields of rye and barley as if she was the snow white fairy that called the fields home. She gracefully strolled through the fields, unashamed of her nakedness in the night. She looked ahead and saw a beautiful forest at the end of the miles and miles of grain. She giggled and began of the sprint towards the forest. The unknown wonders in the woods and her curiosity carried her feet over the stalks and she felt as if she was flying with the hawks that flew with the moon and stars above her. A large hawk flew above her and its shadow cast itself over her body. She spread her arms within the shadow of its wings and she ran with the hawk as if she was flying along the ground. She was not the harlequin any longer. She was something unknown to any human, even herself. Something beautiful. Something not covered in checkerboards and black and white powder and paint. Something naked and shining the the moonlight. Something not of this world. Something extraordinary.
© Copyright 2014 Pixie_Love (moemoepl at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2018077-Harlequin