[Pascale is rolling up the dress she is wearing. The skirt is getting shorter and shorter and eventually rolls up past her belly button.]
Hey buddy – what are you doing?
It’s a curtain rolling up to reveal the dancer on the stage.
Is all your belly a stage?
[She looks at me very intensely.] Yes.
[It’s Week 2 of Pascale’s class. She comes out after the lesson is finished, but does not really want to leave the school.]
Mummy. May we stay and watch the bigger girls for a bit?
Sure thing. Let’s sit over here by the door so you can see them working.
[We sit down as the class starts. The girls are in their mid-teens and are at the barre working – piqué, piqué, piqué, plié, piqué, piqué, piqué, turn… Pascale is mesmerized.]
[45 MINUTES PASS ?!]
Mummy. May I go and get dressed?
Yes, of course. Have you had enough?
No – I’m just cold.
[We are driving up Jarvis St., past the National Ballet School. It is evening and we can see dancers rehearsing.]
Hey, Pascale – look up. Do you see the dancers?
Yesssssss. May I go there to take ballet?
That is the National Ballet School. It is a school for experienced dancers who have worked very, very hard. If you work very hard and want to pursue dance seriously when you are older, you might be able to study there.
That… is my goal.
[Pascale emerges from the studio.]
So, Pascale, what did you think of your first ballet class?
[Pascale leans in conspiratorially and whispers] Miss Lucie seems like a very nice teacher.
Whither Earthlings 