THE FIRST TIME he sees her, she is plummeting to the ground, a stream of chiffon and chantilly lace. His heart leaps into his throat as he jumps from his seat gasping, arms outstretched, ready to catch her fall. The leather harnesses and ropes yank her back up and out of his reach, ricocheting like a bungy cord, depositing her high atop the wooden scaffolding. There she rests perfectly still, a shimmering blue heron overlooking a mirror lake, letting out the barest of breath while the audience, aghast, recovers theirs. The act is death-defying, mesmerizing, a tour de force. But for Eduardo, it is another matter altogether, something unimaginable. While risking life and limb, she looked at him, truly looked at him. And, she did not avert her gaze. Now, back again, Eduardo takes his seat in the front row along the edge of the rotunda in the Grand Chapiteau. The excitement is palpable. The air hot and electric. Dreamy oboe arpeggios snake and coil through the audience, curling toes,
Fighting Entropy One Story at a Time.