Sana rises on tiptoe on the little blue mat. Mountain pose! Her foot trembles, slips — ZAP, the shoe shoots off. It rolls. Rolls, across the wood.
The shoe bumps against the table leg with a thock. Sana points right at it. "I can't stand still!" she grumbles.
Sana tucks one foot on her thigh, arms reaching up like branches. Don. Don. Don. She sways to the right. To the left. Like a tree in the wind.
POF — she tips over onto the orange mat. Up high, a stick of red chalk trembles, trembles… and rolls to the floor, right beside her nose.
Knees bent, arms spread wide like wings. Little bird pose! Flap, flap, flap — and she slides away, landing TUM in the pile of blue blankets.
"I'm a tuneless little bird!" she laughs, burying her chin in the rough fabric. The blankets scratch her cheek. She curls up a little.
Then butterfly pose: knees pulled in tight, arms fluttering slow. One. Two. Three. And at last, the shoes stop tapping the floor.
Sana tiptoes once more. Breathe in. Breathe out. Her feet planted on the light wood, perfectly still, like the roots of an oak.
Sunlight pours through the open window and paints a square of gold on her forehead. No flying shoes. No trembling. Just the tick-tock of the clock.
Sana stays cross-legged. A green leaf drifts in through the window, floats, floats… and lands on the mat. On the chalkboard, the chalk words are still there: MOUNTAIN. TREE. BIRD. BUTTERFLY. Steady. Calm.
