The Art Of Woolgathering | Sean Lew

Washrooms and dance classes

"There were nights I dreamed in such vivid detail that when I woke I was confused, forgetting for a fraction of a second that my sight was gone. For the minutes that followed I felt the grief all over, the loss of things I never even considered missing. I've never been one to dwell on flowers, the shape of a tree or passing clouds. I'd been all action, all hero, never slowing for even a day. Once the sadness became less acute I'd reach for my cane and slowly tap my way to the washroom I could remember but no longer enjoy. . I'd never see my own aging, forever thirty-six in my minds eye, though my fingers would tell me of the wrinkles and hair loss in due course. Part of me wondered if the dreams would change, if one day they'd be the same monochrome shadows of my days..."

Pascal said to Rosalie when they were both waiting at at the doctor's office for an appointment the day after the charity event.

Pascal lost his sight when he was 36 due to an accident, and Rosalie was curious to know what she's going to have to face as a year passes by.

She was scared, not to lie, not of the fact that she won't be able to see again, but just the thought of that day her vision will all of the sudden turn into pure blackness, is what creeps her out the most.

Her doctor keeps saying the same things over and over again,

"I'm sorry there's nothing we can do about it." or "maybe we should try this new medecine."

But Rosalie couldn't care less at that day, not about how bad her doctor feels nor the false hope of a cure. All she cared about is that dance class she was going to attend right after she finishes the appointment.

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"Gosh finally you're dancing again." Ruby said as she grabbed a plate from her kitchen -or her mother's who wasn't home- to make a fasta.

A fasta is not some italian dish that you thought you never heard of, it is italian, but Rosie and Ruby invented that word when they were 7, they were too lazy to prounce *fast pasta* as it is, so they called it a fasta. It's basically a mixture of chicken, some veggies and some peanuts on top. And the cooked pasta of course.

"What if I turn out to be shit at dancing? Did I actually attend dance classes for 6 years? Ruby I think I was just dreaming. I WAS NEVER A DANCER!" Rosie started to freak out about the whole dance class, the whole dancing in general, since the last time she danced, it was on stage and she fell right on her face in front of everyone. That's where she got the fear of being on stage from.

"I'm not going." She added.

"Rosie. Ro. Chill. I've seen you dance before. And as far as I'm concerned, you can dance. Trust me on this. A best friend knows. Plus it's no biggy." Ruby calmed her friend as she placed two plates of fasta on the table and sat down to eat.

"If it's no biggy, why won't you come with me?" Rosie said as she shoved pasta in her mouth.

"Becaaause-" Ruby tried to avoid the question.

"You can dance too and don't you dare deny it."

"Well I won't deny my talent. But Rosie why do you intend to drag me with you wherever you go?" Ruby asked.

"Because I want to enjoy looking at your face as much as possible." Rosie said which, of course, made Ruby's heart melt. She was always such a softie.

"I- I don't know it's been so long and-" Ruby tried to convince her friend to let go of the idea when Rosie pulled her jar-list , pulled the pencil she was using the gather her long hair, and added where is written attend dance classes ; with Ruby.