Yes, I’m very aware that it’s no longer November, but, you know, I really, really wanted to participate in November Notes but that novel writing thing that will go nameless pretty much took up my life.
So, if you don’t mind, and the hosts don’t mind, I’d still like to play. This is for “The Girl from Ipanema.”
I spun in circles in the living room, arms turned out, palms up, spinning, spinning, face turned upward, the lyrics dreams of a charmed future life. Tossing a bare foot into the air, I pretended to be the world’s best dancer, plie. I’d rather be a singer, although maybe I’d be both, tiny legs jump. The sways so gentle.
These days, I smile at her, the world before her, a gifted array of choices, how she danced like no one was watching, before it all changed.