so the little amarillo y negro did what he does best.

the first time i spotted him he was dancing his dance, each step so carefully memorized and precisely enacted - intrinsic, as if the dance he danced was the one the spirits danced while molding his dna.

his negro, negro legs glided forwards and backwards ever so swiftly as to create the allusion he was hovering just slightly above the invisible surface.

his motions, so repetitive, kept him circling the invisible pane to which he was naively bound.

it's been awhile. never once has our little amarillo y negro hero wavered in his self-prescribed goal of dancing beyond - beyond the force holding him back.

he could feel the freedom that gently tingled his hair and he could smell the world beyond that composed of more than apple dish detergent.

and so our little amarillo y negro did what he does best, and danced in hopes his best would get him where he craved to be.