Fiorentina/Dalia
I thought I wouldn’t make it to the birthday party. My mother had begun feeling suspicious of my movements. Staying underwater for days had somehow appeased her. A part of me was glad that at least she noticed what was going on. It meant that she was out of her periodic depression.
For now. For a time.
It was good that Madame Sophie gave us more breaks from the theater, but with each of us promising to practice at home. She said that when we do return to the stage, we would become our characters. It would be rough. I couldn’t tell her that I was relying more on Dalia’s memory because practicing was impossible where I lived. I might have turned and twisted a little more in the water, much to the gaping wonder of the little mermaids. It was the only way to go
