The Dancer and The Doll

~The Dancing Doll~ (4)

Bright rays of morning sunshine crept in through the foggy window glass, illuminating the room and spreading across the Dancer's face. He blinked a few times in the sunlight and yawned. Staying in his chair – not yet fully awake – he looked around sleepily.

The fire had been reduced to a few glowing embers, Rose was standing where he had left her last, and, Clockwork had slowly wound to a stop sometime during the night half-way through delivering a rusted pail. The Dancer yawned, stretched, and stood up reluctantly sidestepping the pile of junk Clockwork had brought. He threw a couple of chair legs into the fire and soon it was blazing merrily once more.

The crisp spring air livened him up as he began to hunt the room for an extra piece of furniture that could keep the fire going another night. He noted with bitterness that – not only was his food supply running low – but he was also finding it more and more difficult to feed the fire. The wood stack had slowly disappeared, and his options were becoming limited. But he piled a few old planks and large splinters of wood from a destroyed tabletop beside the hearth and dismissed the concern about the low amount of supplies at hand. He did not want to think about it.

The Dancer wound Clockwork up on his way over to the table to fetch his painting supplies. He took his time selecting the perfect blush tone for her lips and cheeks.
Of course he needn't paint her diamond eyes, but rather, the area around them. The Dancer carried his selected paints and those brushes that were not frayed in a basket with a palette. He had to mix, test and think a great deal before starting.

When Rose had first been created, a professional artist had done her face. The Dancer could paint of course, but not nearly as excellently. Once all the peeling areas had been removed and her empty face – besides the eyes and nose – had been changed... he began. Starting with Rose's eyelashes first, he took the brush with the finest tip and used short, gentle strokes. He worked on each eye carefully, being sure to make it as realistic as possible.

Clockwork had dropped two dusty picture frames and a beaded lampshade onto the Dancer's boots, whistled, and rolled away. The slight jolt had caused the Dancer to make one of Rose's eyebrows too large on one side. He sighed and painted the other to match. The eyebrows were now bigger than before, however, not by much. They still curved in a graceful ark above the doll's twinkling diamond eyes.

Now for the mouth... before beginning, the Dancer added a bit of colour to her face, a dab of blush on her cheeks to make the doll's silver skin seem a bit more real. He paused a moment to take a step back and observe. It was going very well, Rose was becoming ever more life-like. Pleased, the Dancer steadily brought the brush up to paint her mouth. After he had added every curve, sharpened every line and delicately shaded every area... he was done.

Rose, the Dancing Doll, was finally and thoroughly refreshed and returned to most of her former glory!

Clockwork – in the meantime – had nearly picked everything up off the floor now. While he was attempting to drag a heavy fallen chair to his master, the Dancer slid the records out of their sleeves and carried them over to the bronze music player.

Excited to dance once more, and this time with a partner, the Dancer hastily set the paints aside and mused about which song to play first.

He selected, 'My Lass's Charm' as a fun warm up – after all, he had not danced in weeks! He slid the record into place to begin the song. He hurried over to wind up Rose's key until it pointed to the correct song title. To his immense delight the music began cheerfully with a happy beat and Rose – his precious doll – began to dance.
Her creator joined in, keeping pace easily, muscle and mind memory playing a big part. And so, the Dancer and his Doll spun, hopped, twirled and moved together as one.