Sasha’s New Move
I remember my Sasha Thumper. She was a dancer. Now that I mention it, they were always dancers.
One evening, she was going on about her dance lessons, and this new move she learned. I had to agree to dance with her before she showed me, though. I said yes, knowing my two left feet were like, “NOOOOOO!"
I lasted about ten seconds before landing on my butt. My very awkward butt. Sasha stood over me, laughed and said,
"Ok, ok. I guess you earned an exclusive Ballet performance from Moi!”
“Moi?” I said.
She danced, but I think most of it wasn’t even Ballet. It was still great though. Then she did this move, you know, when ballerinas stand on their toes. Her arms and leg slowly lifted, like she was being pulled my strings. She came to a pause, shook a little bit, and caught herself before she fell.
“TA-DA!” She said and bowed, so her voice didn’t carry as much as she probably thought.
“SASHA! Time to come in!” Came her Mother’s voice from her house.
“Bye,” She said.
“Bye,” I said.
That moment is there, sitting on my memory’s shores. I don’t remember the name of the street we lived on. I don’t remember what I did later on that night. I don’t remember the overture that the Traveling Cricket Symphony played or how many stars were out.
I remember Sasha’s new move.
Listening to J. Cole’s album sparked this.
You know, the one that sampled the OutKast song, “Da Art of Storytelling.” I have been trying to capture the mood that the original song has for the longest time now.
After hearing J Coles version, I proceeded to listen to the original track for about and hour straight trying to make what you see: young kids making moments that do last forever.
Look at it again, but pull up the song on Youtube. See if it fits.
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