She altered and formed each savoring step. A vision in ebony blue, deep forest greens sparkled like crystals. She was a peacock on the stage, her flamboyance tempered by her pensive nature. She was lost in thought, but not in action. Her fire an aggression that lived in her dance. In each turn and spin, a violent thrust of idea, a depressed perception of man, a black and white, a sense of division, unity defeated by absolutes. The blue light cast on her smokey make up, the lines of her eyes cracked and watching. She tumbled to the floor, a cascade of plume and glitter.
“Lady Peacock” is written by Michael Aaron Casares. All rights reserved.