Monday, March 23, 2020

The Dancer

People called her kind.
The truth is, the people were just stupid, she was a dancer.
She taught the stupid people how to dance because that is what made her happy.
Dancing was her profession, that’s what she was designed to do.
She charged those who could afford and those who couldn’t paid later.
Dancing was what she loved, the profession got her in tight situations but she danced her way out.
In hard times, she danced.
In good times, she danced.
She soon developed a reputation for being too kind so she put a sign up on her wall that read:
You are you who you are and I am who I am.
I can’t change that.
When you come to me to learn how to dance we make a deal and when you take over the world don’t forget who taught you how to dance.
It seems that once a person develops a reputation, people often think they’ve figured them out.
This is the part of the story that is complicated. The dancer soon got in another tight spot and she was older now with aches and pains. She needed money and no one would dare bail her out because they couldn’t. She put a gun up to her head and came to the conclusion that she was going to kindly kill herself. Suicide can be very interesting. It’s a moment when a person has pretty much reached a dead end. Strange things happen at this time and time usually clicks in seconds until the suicide is complete. As she sat there with the gun, her clock alarm went off and it was her favorite song. She put the gun down and with her aches and pains got on her dance floor and began to dance. After her moment, she sold everything she had and got out of debt. She lived to the golden age of 58. At her funeral, everyone she was kind to showed up. When the music began to play, she jumped out of the casket and began to dance. Everyone she was kind to started screaming and got the hell out of the building. She was the new Jesus story, she resurrected. She did her favorite dance the sea walk all around her casket. By god she was walking on water. It’s a good thing the funeral parlor had mirrors. As long as there was a tune she could live forever. When the music stopped she got back in the casket and got some rest until the next song came on.
The πŸ’ƒπŸ» Dancer πŸ•ΊπŸΌ

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