An electronic missive found in my digital archives: I forgot to tell you... I like your moves happy prancer. The ones that go slip slip across your cork floor. The ones that go tap tap down the elevator. The ones that go too too in a tiny little office space somewhere in the middle of the middle of the middle. You also have a very shapely belly button. Today you will come up with a new dance of sorts. One that will spin and dwindle. One that will hoop and bowl. One that will whirl and snot. One that will roll and wind under things ununderable.

Umbrellas.

Someday you will see the prancing past in the corner of your eyes standing in the rain awkwardly with molasses dripping and dropping. It will be fun, and awfully slow. Toss it with your gliding toes, your slithery arms, your noodle lips. It will be delicious. It will be grand. In pancakes and candy, pudding and stew, corn beef and balled beef, pork chops and pork ears.