The Dancer in Rags
It was always chaos when the festival of fools came about. The streets were packed with spectators. Performers, flame breathers, jugglers, stilt walkers, artist and dancers displayed their talents all through out the streets of Paris. The stores were closed for the week, in order to partake in the festivities. Chi-chi felt cornered, crammed. People knocked against her without apology. But that didn't deter her from watching the jousters, jugglers, and acrobatics. Staring in awe at the jesters flexablity, the knive throwers never missing a target, and the competitions between the strongest men in France. Chi-chi walked along the edge of the parade when somthing caught her attention. A large crowd surrounding a Namekian's carriage home. It wasn't uncommon to see a lowly Namekian in France performing, singing, or dancing for gold. but what brought her to the crowd was the fact that the carriage was simple, humble even, with a small platform made of decaying wood no bigger than her kitchen floor. The closer she got the more depressing the state of this carriage was: crumbling roof tiles, a curtain patched sparingly with mismatching fabrics, it was sad state indeed. So when the Namek stepped from their home onto the platform in nothing but rags she wasn't surprised. What did amaze her was how the crowd cheered. She was sure she had gone deaf. The roar of the crown silenced as the soft tapping of a tambourine slowly grew. Setting the tempo to the Namek's performance. followed by a deep steady drum beat. A single violin sounded high and clear... Then he danced. She was astounded by his grace, the fluidity in his steps, the ferocity of his flips, the seductive sway in his movements, the smile that adorned his emerald lips. Turning her eye's to the other spectators she saw the same look she had: fascination. She returned her gaze to the dancer just to see him backflip onto the roof The drum thrumbed faster, the violin higher, the tambourine in his hand rattled then he tossed it into the air, then jumped twisting and flipping twice, before landing flat on his left foot, catching the tambourine in his right hand with one last note. Ending the song. Chi-chi found herself clapping, alibit subdued, with the crowd. The Namek bowed low, grabbing one of the roses that was tossed onto the stage, standing and giving an air kiss to the crowd. Chi-chi froze when his Onix eye's locked with her own. Eye's that called to her. The moment seemed like years, but really was only seconds before the contact was cut and he walked back into the carriage. The crowd thinned as Chi-chi realized the time to be nearly supper. Quickly she grabbed onto the arm of one of the spectators near her. "What is the Namek's name?" She asked. "His name is Piccolo, The greatest dancer in all of Europe!" Piccolo...That was a name she would not forget soon.
