In the garden, when dusk had settled in and nights sky darkened everything around it, Stephanie would wade out into the middle of the worn out bricks. Within the circle she crouched low, her sunset dress puffed out onto the ground creating waves of flowing fabric all around her. In the density of those summer nights, when it was so hot that you seemed to choke on your own breath, I would watch her perform. With the illusion of being alone firmly placed in her mind she gave all feelings and emotions over to the unpredictability that arises when all thoughts cease and nothing is left but action. With a quarter moon perched ever so lightly above her head, she lifted her arms out towards nothing yet she was grasping at something. In a moment she sprung from the ground and was making wild leaps into the air. I could not help but laugh. Through these movements she resembled a grasshopper who had lost her legs and now thrashed about because to lay still would mean defeat and to no longer be a hopper. If she did hear my laughter she never led on. Like a proud queen she kept her gaze and chin in arching suspense while her whole being crashed and rose with heaps of energetic splendor. As time wore on her breathing became labored. She stopped. Turning around she stared directly into my direction. With a flutter of quick movements she strode over to my hiding place. I tried to run but was caught from behind with a hard blow from her heel.