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Rated: E · Short Story · Fantasy · #2249007
A six year old's dream of being a Flamenco dancer
Six year old Theresa always loved going to the house of her best friend Lucy. The main reason wasn't so much to see Lucy, but rather to see her favorite portrait of Lucy's 16 year old sister Carmela. Upon entering Lucy's home, everyone was greeted with this floor to ceiling, four foot wide, hand painted portrait of Carmela who was dressed in her full Spanish Flamenco attire. It was framed in an intricately carved, golden wood. The portrait displayed the fine details of Carmela in her dress made of satin and velvet materials, the colors of a deep dark red and black.

Every time Theresa looked up at the portrait, she always had a feeling that Carmela would step from the frame and begin dancing in front of her at any moment. It looked that realistic!

Carmela had been learning to dance the flamenco for many years, a dance which happen to be Theresa's favorite. At one time, Theresa had the good fortune of going with Lucy to watch Carmela perform at a state dance competition, one in which Carmela took first place. It was so spectacular that every second of the entire event stayed ingrained in her mind forever. She remembered how Carmela began by being posed in the center of the stadium wearing one of her beautiful dresses, which by the way, she had many. The stadium was pitch black with the exception of a solitary spot light shinning directly on Carmela. There she stood so still, frozen in place. She looked like a porcelain doll. Not a sound to be heard throughout the entire arena, yet an excitement could be felt throughout.

Suddenly, the music of a flamenco guitarra began resonating throughout the stadium and the world came to life! With the first beat, Carmela broke her statuesque pose by stamping her black, high healed leather boots, each step hitting the ground along with the rhythm of the music. Slowly she began to twirl. With ruffles held in her right hand and fanning the air with her open lace fan in the other. She was one with the music and flowed gracefully with each beat and each step bringing the music to life. A gasp of awhh came from the audience as the excitement grew, their breaths were taken away with her constant flowing motions. She was a spectacular site to see.

Looking up at the portrait always brought those moments back to life for Theresa. She could stay admiring Carmela's painting for hours, never getting tired of looking at it. The best was were when Lucy wasn't quite ready to go asked Theresa to wait for her in the entry way. That was great, she would always tell Lucy to take her time, no hurry.

Theresa getting lost in her own thoughts could envision herself in Carmela's dress, dancing around the room, clicking castanets, swirling her hands in a graceful motion, up, down, around just as all flamenco dancers do. While gliding to the beat of a guitarra that was playing a fast Spanish cante, she would be stomping the heals of her cool flamenco boots. Then her whole being would be dancing across the room in a one circular motion after another, all in time with the beat of the music, one with the rhythm of that guitarra. She could hear everyone shouting, “Que bella”, “How Beautiful!”, “Baile Theresa, baile” “Dance Theresa, dance”. Her ruffle train twirling while she was danced so gracefull.

Then, as she was deep in thought, just when she was ready to make her special finale, she would feel a smack on her arm. Lucy was ready to go and Theresa would be knocked out of her Flamenco trance! It was time to come back to reality, time to leave, leave the world of Flamenco. Yet, before she walked out of the door of Lucy's house, she would always give one last look over her shoulder, one last glimpse at that portrait and she could swear Carmela would give a slight nod of her head, then with a smile, give Theresa a wink. Theresa knew it was an acknowledgment one flamenco dancer would give to another. "Baile Theresa, Baile"
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