It is not easy to read “The Fears of Mrs. Orlando,” by Lydia Davis in a dance studio. It is not easy to read about a woman who talks herself out of everything because she is afraid of everything while dancers spin and leap and Pas de bourree to, “We Could Be Heroes.”
Mrs. Orlando “tries to prepare for every precaution.” The women behind the glass window – the dancers – the women who I don’t think are much younger than me, maybe some of them are even older, they stand in line, waiting their turn, and when it is time they float their arms up and they kick and turn and they do 6 o’clocks to the music while I try to read about Mrs. Orlando and the possible risks and discomforts she prepares for: “sudden hunger, cold, boredom, heavy bleeding.”
It is not easy to read about Mrs. Orlando who eventually chooses to never leave her house because it’s simply too dangerous while the dancers are less than 5 feet away from me and my ankles start to rotate, and my toes start to point and I close the story because Mrs. Orlando’s fear is so boring and I stand and take a step forward – just to see a bit better – and I am still holding the book and a dancer makes eye contact with me, so I put my head down and step back.
I sit down and read about Mrs. Orlando, but it is not easy when I can hear and see everything and I can feel it all, too.
This was written as part of the 40 Days of Writing the Everyday Challenge. The word for this prompt was “music.” Want to join us? Grab your instant download here. Want to see what others are writing about? Check out the #40daysofwritingtheeveryday hashtag on Instagram.
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