And When We Danced

Vision through a pair of eyes is overrated.

Looks, reading…pfff, who needs ’em?

I do just fine without it. Because I’ve learned to take what I have and use it to make my own success.

This is my world. And in my world, everyone can dance.

I’m not talking tutus and frills and the delicate little hops and steps that I’m sure Sugar Queen enjoys so much. Nuh-uh. I’m talking the grueling, vicious, bloodthirsty movements of a good fight, whether it’s practice or it’s real.

Twinkletoes was never good competition when we were practicing, and neither was Sugar Queen. They were both too nice. But there was something about fighting Snoozles that I never got sick of.

I think it was because he never held back; I scared the crap out of him, and that made him think he needed to try harder. How he ever even got close to me when we practiced was beyond me. I always knew where he was; the earth never lied. And yet he always found a way to surprise me, he always did something other than what I thought he would do. I learned to deal with it. I became used to the unexpected, being able to fend him off from any direction he came from.

But when Snoozles told me he loved me…I didn’t expect that. So I did the only thing I could do.

I kneed him and said, I love you too, moron.