Jazmyn Ragle

A Simple Kindness

She came into my room without knocking, as she usually does, and she asked me for a foot rub. Saying nothing, I get out of my lumpy bed and grab her favorite lotion. She takes a seat in her favorite chair and props up her feet and I lay them on my lap. I rub her feet despite the pain in my hands. It is something I have always done. A simple kindness I do not mind providing her. I never complain about the pain in my hands. She sleeps better after I rub her feet. She does not usually sleep. This simple kindness is one that I will never deny her. I love her and I want her to sleep well. 

He stumbled down the second flight of stairs, drunk. I say nothing and put my arm underneath his, keeping him upright. I do this despite the pain in my back. It is something I have never done for anyone. A simple kindness he does not deserve. I walk him down to the car. His sober friends are waiting for him, they will take him to bed. Where he will sleep well. This simple kindness is the least I can do. I do not love him, but he loves me. He deserves to sleep well. 

She sits down in the restaurant that I work at, like she usually does. She orders something small to go. She avoids my eyes. I know why she does this. I smile at her and say hello as if nothing had ever happened. It is a simple kindness I am willing to give her. I serve her her food and wish her a good day. I do not give her attitude and I do not give her looks. I do her a simple kindness because I know she loves someone. 

He looks at me and tilts his head to the side. I mirror his actions and smile. He calls to me from across the room. He is the first to speak to me that night. He makes his way to me and we start a conversation. It is a simple kindness he gives me. The rest of the night was weightless and he was kind. He does not love me and I do not love him. That night I slept well. 

The Woman Wanted to Dance

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Ancient Earth has always been the most artistic, genuine, and fascinating time that has ever been documented. It was a time of vast amounts of improvements. Human interactions still contained restrictions, especially with women. Many cultures worship women and their ability to bear children and their surprising amount of strength and resiliency. Unfortunately, there were still cultures whose traditions did not allow women the same amount of freedom as compared to their male counterparts. 

During this era, there was a village much like this. Its origin and name are unknown despite the beautiful stories that were created by them. The women of the tribe were expected only to cook, nurse, and give birth to the children of the man they were assigned to wed. Traditions were held at high priority in the village and never to be questioned by anyone, even those in command. A ceremony was held once a month on the full moon. This was because the moon was known to this tribe as the stepping stone to the beyond. During the ceremonies, those who passed away that month were mourned and a feast was held in their honor. The ceremonies were held to wish the dead luck on their journey to the moon. Music and dance were only to be participated by men, and the women said the prayers. These traditions were cherished by those in the village. Everyone seemed to have been content with the way things were.

One full moon, in the middle of June, a woman stood with the men and danced with them. Her name, along with the tribe’s, was unknown. She wore bear skin that covered her from chest to toe. She wore her unnaturally dark hair in long braids. Her hair complemented her brown eyes. The woman enjoyed the village’s monthly rituals since she lost her father at the age of six. The dancing captivated her, almost hypnotizing her. The idea of being able to move and control your body to the rhythm of her culture seemed utterly enchanting to her. Every month, she would watch the men dance and take in the movements that were captured by the light of the fire. Through the years she was able to memorize the movements and their meanings. She had planned the day of her first ceremonial dance for so long. The woman never told anyone of her secret love for dance, not ever her family. Despite her love for dancing, she was still terrified. Women of the village were not meant to dance, it was seen as obscene and dangerous. How could dance be so dangerous when it is so beautiful? The woman would tell herself this every night as she planned her first ceremonial dance.

That June night, she had gotten the courage to do what no other woman in that tribe had ever done. The beating of the drums began, the men started the dance and the women began chanting the prayers. The woman stayed silent, she stood up and stepped forward. She was constant with her steps despite the stares and murmurs urging her to stop. She slowly got into a rhythm with the male dancers. Prayer began to silence and the men slowly stopped dancing. Even when the drums ceased to beat, the woman did not stop dancing. She did not need the music to tell her when and how to move her body. She let herself go and it felt so freeing. The woman danced the whole routine, not stopping until the whole dance was done. Once she was done she turned to her fellow tribe members, who looked upon her as if she was changing shapes right in front of them. The woman smiled, not knowing what would happen next. 

The village was in an uproar about what the woman had done. The debate split the village into two, those who supported the woman and the others who believed the woman should be punished for disrespecting traditions. The woman’s family scorned her for her actions, telling her that her late father would be disappointed in her for humiliating the family. This struck the woman with an immediate wave of shame. She cherished her father’s memory and to be told that she was the cause of ruining it, made her feel disgusted with herself. Was what she did so horrible? Should she feel shame in herself for wanting to turn traditions into something she felt was just as beautiful? She still felt from the bottom of her heart that she was not wrong, however, she could not help but doubt herself. The days became miserable for the woman as the majority of her tribe shunned and scorned her. She pleaded with them, attempting to reason with them. No one would listen to her. 

One month had passed and there was another full moon. The tribe was preparing for their next ceremony. Discussions about the woman did not cease; they wanted her to not come to the ceremony because it would be seen as disrespectful. The woman felt true pain when asked to not even attend the ceremony, the ceremony she so valued and idolized. She could not take it anymore. 

As the sun began to set, the woman snuck into the woods and ran as far as she could. Her legs eventually gave out and she had to steady her breathing so she would not faint. The moon shone brightly down on the ground before her. She looked out onto a vast field filled with tall weeds and light-colored flowers. In the distance, she could hear the beating of the drums. They were so loud it sounded like the earth’s heartbeat. The woman began to cry, the tears released with such intensity that the moon looked upon her with pity. With tears streaming down her face, she stood up and began to dance. She was not dancing out of joy or out of anger. She danced with the pure intention to dance. 

The moon looked down and watched as she danced so beautifully. Her body moved smoothly and with coordination. The shooting stars stopped in their tracks and the moon began to move closer. All of space looked upon the woman and watched as she danced. The woman was unaware of what was happening around her. When she stopped she finally looked behind her and gasped. The moon was alarmingly close to the woman. She could see the craters that covered the surface. She was not afraid because she grew up worshipping the moon and understanding its intense beauty. The woman reached out to the moon, and when she did she began to rise. She was not afraid. The moon knew what the woman had been going through and was waiting for this moment to give her a gift. The moon let her step into space so she would have the freedom to dance completely and eternally. 

The tribe stopped their ceremony to see the new constellation in the night sky. The constellation resembled a woman dancing. The other tribes in the surrounding area were in shock by the new constellation in the night sky and with no explanation for it. The village whose name is unknown, however, knew exactly how it came to be. They secretly knew who the woman in the constellation was, but chose to never speak about their mistake. The tribe never spoke of the phenomena of the moon answering the woman whom they had shunned. It would still be years before they allowed women to dance in the ceremonies. As for the woman, she danced eternally, and it was the greatest gift she could have ever asked for. 

Panic