You might recognize this from one of his intriguing projects, Dancers Among Us. If you like a little drama in a picture, you'll want to check out the book (well, books; he actually has a few others, featuring little dancers, circus performers, and more).
Now it's your turn to create something! It just has to be inspired by and/or related to this image (even third cousins will count), and 200-1000 words (we will make allowances for poetry, though). Don't forget to keep yourself accountable and on track by leaving a comment! (The list of writing forums for posting is here in yesterday's post, in case you missed it).
Check back tomorrow to see what I came up with...
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So it's tomorrow already!
Here's what I wrote for Day 1:
Josefina hadn’t said a word in the eight days that she’d lived with them. This was normal, Marta told herself; such a drastic change would naturally take some time for her eight-year-old niece to adjust to. Right?
Sure, she sighed to herself, as she pulled out the frozen lasagna and garlic bread; everything was just fine. Mark would be home ‘a little late’ tonight, as his text had said- after yet another big client-meeting she guessed. When he did finally arrive, he’d ask how the day had gone, and she’d give him that tight smile, say ‘great’, and give details about a new project she’d been asked to write, their neighbor’s landscaping plans, her friend’s vacation rave- it didn’t matter what, really- he wouldn’t be listening anyway, his mind on his business- or some game probably, she thought jealously- it wasn’t worth the effort to recall which one would be playing now, in the summer. And Josefina would sit there silent, eating the Italian food slowly and carefully, her large, dark eyes round and impenetrable as ever.
Why did I ever listen to Maria? Marta wondered as she began to scrub at the carrots, hard and frustrated, as if she could scrub away her other difficulties with the dirt. Yes, they wanted to help the family while Ana was in rehab- but maybe this whole hosting a little niece thing wasn’t going to work…
Josefina slid into the kitchen like a shadow, watching as Marta attacked the salad vegetables with a knife and some sense of a chopping motion.
“Ever tried lasagna?” Marta tried for the thousandth time to initiate a conversation. Josefina shook her head wordlessly, apparently absorbed in watching the savage motions of the knife.
Marta had tried making Mexican food like her mother’s, the first three days. Shouldn’t be too hard, she’d told herself, fumbling for kitchen memories in the past that she’d buried deep, twelve years ago. But even without Josefina saying anything, she’d realized it wasn’t such a hot idea, and she’d given up on that. Oh well, just one more reminder of why she’d left all that and never looked back; never was meant to be a normal American-Latina like the rest of her family…
But she’d tried so many other things for Josefina too…
She’d decided that her free-lance writing business could take a vacation for a little while, and instead tried to find ways to get their new little girl integrated into their neighborhood and culture in the suburbs of Washington D.C.
Her efforts had included taking her to two group playdates where there were several other little girls Josefina’s age, and veteran mothers for Marta to listen to and observe closely. Mostly observe, as asking how to get her voluntarily mute niece to simply talk at all seemed too embarrassing a question to start with. Both times, Josefina had shook her head to all the polite invitations from Marta and the other girls, (prompted by their mothers) to get her to play something. Instead, she’d sat quietly in a corner, fiddling with a doll or a top until some other girl had taken it; both times, she’d given it up without any struggle, and the thief had absconded with their spoil before Marta could catch them. Then, eventually, Marta had asked Josefina if she wanted to leave, and received the same silent nod that seemed to be the only kind of positive answer she would ever get. Visits to the children’s museum, the zoo, and a concert in the neighborhood had all elicited similar silent responses. Finally, Marta had tried leaving her with the dolls that she’d gotten her, and wondered if she would find her talking with them. Whether Josefina did ever talk to her dolls her not, Marta didn’t know for sure, but every single time she’d checked, she’d only seen Josefina quietly moving them about, never making a sound.
For a person who prided herself on creative thinking, the frustration was becoming excruciating.
Marta started- their front door was being unlocked and
opened. Josefina quivered too, like a rabbit, her dark eyes even wider than usual.
“Surprise!” Mark called down the hall.
As Marta turned the corner, Josefina trailing behind her, she caught her breath.
“Thought you’d like these,” Mark murmured, (more like his usual subdued self), as he presented her with the large, colorful bouquet of flowers.
That was more like the Mark she remembered dating and honeymooning with, the Mark who’d seemed to have all but disappeared under increasing job pressures.
“Wow! Thank you! I-I definitely wasn’t expec- but you said-“
“A little cancellation was nothing, and I realized it had been ages-” he paused, leaning in to kiss her; the moment lingered pleasantly, and Marta realized this was miles from the peck they had exchanged this morning, and she stopped wondering about the cancellation.
“Ages, simply ages,” he whispered when they finally separated, “since I’d got you flowers.”
“They’re gorgeous! I’ll put them on the table and- oh, but you told me you wouldn’t be here until later, and dinner is nowhere near-“
“Don’t worry about it. It’s also been a long time since we took a walk in the park. How does that sound, Josefina?” Mark asked, turning to the little girl.
Josefina nodded, though Marta was surprised to see what she suspected to be the beginning of a smile peeking through the girl’s impenetrable face.
Somewhere ahead of the three of them in the park, children were laughing with a fountain, and everywhere, couples and small knots of people were enjoying the summer evening. The June air was warm, but a breeze kept it from being uncomfortable, and Marta relished reliving other walks in the park with her Mark. She’d been surprised at how well they’d connected from the very beginning. The spark of understanding had kindled into romance almost without her realizing it, so natural it had felt, she thought with a pleasant sigh.
Marta froze- Josefina wasn’t walking beside her anymore.
“Mark? Did you see her leave?” The panic in her voice rose up despite her efforts to quell it. He recognized her fear and realized the same thought. Of course Josefina wouldn’t have said anything if she’d decided to stop and look at something. Or go follow someone…
“She was here a moment ago, but now-” Marta spun around, scanning the path they’d taken.
“No, wait-- I think, I think that’s her—” Mark was saying behind her.
When Marta pivoted back to see where he was looking, she caught her breath. There, indeed was their little Josefina- but nothing like they’d ever known of her. First of all, she was laughing, her mouth wide open and emitting ripples of uncontrollable glee. And she was dancing, twirling in the white spray of the fountain as if it were the most magical thing in all the world.
Marta paused midstride a moment, though, when she saw something else- Josefina was joining hands with another girl, and whispering something that sent them both off into another burst of giggles, and another dance. “We’re water fairies, Marta!” she declared, when she turned and saw Marta, a rainbow of a smile stretching across both their faces. And friends, spontaneous, precious friends, Marta thought as the two girls laughed again, and she smiled at Mark by her side.
I know, its on the long side of the goal I mentioned (I'm still working on making shorter, more concise stories). You are more than welcome to comment on it (critical feedback is the best), raw though it is. Would love to see your Day 1 writing in the comments below!
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