Peggy’s prompt—leaning forward—

Peggy’s prompt—leaning forward—


Leaning forward, she could almost reach the….

“Try leaning forward,” he said gently, as she tried to hoist her nearly immobilized body off the examining table….

Leaning forward, I could see the baby elephant standing behind her (his?) mother, trunks touching, almost entwined, and I heard the guide say, “the most dangerous position to be in is between a mother and her baby”, but this mama didn’t seem to like us even though her calf was right by her side. The mama flared her ears, an early warning sign. “We’re backing up,” the guide said, “just to be on the safe side.” He let out the clutch and the 4-wheel drive vehicle backed slowly away from mama and child for about 100 feet, where he stopped again. Mama’s ears slowly lowered. Clearly, this distance suited her better. This also gave her a clear path to the rest of the herd, most of whom were busily breaking off acacia branches and poking them into their mouths. Now the baby seemed less fearful, too, and turning around, bumped his mother in the stomach with his broad forehead, and grabbing her nipple in his mouth, began to have his breakfast….

You’re leaning forward, he calls. Stand up straight. Right, I think, my first time on ice skates and you’re worried about form. I’m worried about my ankles, which appear to be on the point of shearing off from the rest of my legs. The tightly laced skate boots are supposed to help hold my ankles steady, but my ankles are swirling around in circles where space does not, theoretically, exist. Not to mention the pain. Not discomfort. Pain. How do those beautiful Olympic skaters stand the pain, I wonder. But mostly my thoughts are on remaining upright with all limbs intact and making it to the side of the rink where there’s a bar to hang on to. You’re doing great, he yells. Keep going. Keep going? What else would I do? I have no idea how to stop, and I’m sure it will involve falling down. Hard. On the cold ice. Where my blazing ankles can get some precious relief from the fire caused by the exertion of holding the rest of my body aloft. Not a bad idea, falling. Let’s see. How to do this gracefully. How to do it at all. OK, I’ll lean back, like he says.

There, I knew it. Leaning forward is the only way my ankles will support me on this ice. Leaning forward equals go. Leaning back equals fall. Simple, once you get the hang of it.