The Art of the Hemline: Part 1
“Are you sure we don’t look like some sort of occult?”
“Positive,” Horsekeeper says. “Why?”
“Well, I don’t know. Have you seen many people dressed like that on a Sunday morning, wandering around and drinking coffee like everything’s normal?” Torri hisses.
She looks around to see if people are still staring at them. She doesn’t blame them. Horsekeeper insisted they’d look as if they were mere dancers, entertainers of some sort. Instead, the entire coffee shop gawked at them, the moment their group entered the front yard.
Men dressed in black and blue, with black bandanas wrapped around their heads. Women in blue, red and white long skirts, wearing black and blue vests, along with kerchiefs in various colours, flowing in the wind.
They definitely looked like an occult.
“Relax,” the Captain, Horsekeeper’s father says. “From what I can see, you ladies over here are far more modestly dressed than any other woman in the shop.”
“It’s not modesty I’m worried about, Captain. But burning at the stake wasn’t on my to-do list today,” Torri snaps.
“Easy now,” Horsekeeper whispers near her ear. His unique scent, burned wood and cinnamon, mixes with the sweet scents of the rosebushes and the jasmines nearby. It’s funny how each and every time, the moment his scent wafts through her nostrils, she feels calmer, more focused. “We’re wondermakers, illusionists, enthrallers… Let’s help people see that. Besides, I wouldn’t want to get burned today either. I washed my hair this morning.”
Torri giggles. The Captain winks at his son. And the entire group of Danse de la Lune walks deeper in the front yard of the coffee shop and sits down at two rotunda tables, ready to have their brunch.
We’re wondermakers, illusionists, enthrallers…
Torri plays Horsekeeper’s words inside her head. She cracks her neck, her maroon kerchief, with its golden lace, caressing her neck. It reminds her of two nights prior.
She and Horsekeeper were the last to leave the stage, Horsekeeper twirling her around and around. And yet, she never got dizzy. Not once. The crowd was frantic. Applauding and cheering, as if they’d never seen two dancers getting lost in the music, the rhythm before. Torri twirled and twirled, and her long, white skirt twirled with her, like it had a conscious of its own.
The art of the hemline. That’s what her mother always called that. The moment when her feet were barely visible, looking as if they didn’t even touch the ground. And yet she kept dancing. Dancing her soul out. Right, left, left, lift, right, left, right at the back. Turn, left, right, turn, stop, poise… Left, left, right.
Then came the twirling. The moment the spotlight was at its brightest and the audience was craving for more. Horsekeeper knew that. Torri knew it, too. That’s when they walked at the edge of the stage and down the hidden staircase.
Then everything went black. The wonders had been made. The illusion had been lost. The enthralment had been placed.
Horsekeeper clicked his fingers, a blue flame flickering between them. His normally green eyes had turned copper, the way they always did after a show. The way Torri’s eyes had turned, too, the crowd’s joy and excitement, feeding her damned soul.
“You wanna go some place quiet?” Horsekeeper asked.
Torri… Torri…
“Torri! Blueberries or raspberries?”
Torri blinks and stares at Horsekeeper. His eyes are green. He’s smiling at her. She knows what he sees. White complexion. Brown eyes. Freckles. Bloody red lips.
“You’ve known me for an eternity and a half. What’s it gonna be?”
“Six pancakes with raspberries and chocolate syrup, one latte and one americano, please,” Horsekeeper says, locking his eyes with Torri’s.
“Coming right up,” the waitress smiles. Torri can see her from the corner of her eye. She knows how the enthralment works. She can feel it in her bones right now.
Too bad Horsekeeper doesn’t. And he probably doesn’t even care.
***
Hello, hello, awesome nerds, happy Thursday everyone and happy June!
I thought we should start this month with a different kind of post. A post I had a very long while to share with you: a writing piece of mine.
This is of course a draft and, truth be told, I don’t even know if it’s gonna turn into an actual story.
What I do know is that I feel like I need to write again, and the feeling is amazing!
Let me know what you thought in the comment section down below.
What kind of enthralment would you be willing to endure?
Thank you all so very much for being here once again. It truly means the world to me and I want you to know that I most certainly don’t take your presence here for granted. 
Have a wonderful summer, amazing people. Stay safe and stay positive!
Till next time… Toodles!
