By Charles Rammelkamp
The final stages of our yoga practice that afternoon came after we’d already done the sun salutations, cat-cows, cobras, and downward dogs.
Just before Shavasana—corpse pose—flat on our backs already, the instructor had us do happy baby pose. With our hands up between our legs, grabbing our feet from the outside, pulling the shins parallel to the floor we rocked back and forth.
Then, I swear, (or my name is not Gregor Samsa) I felt myself becoming an infant. I longed to suck my toes. I gurgled.
The instructor came over and tickled my belly.
I was blissfully happy.
Surrealistic, humorous fantasy(?), nicely written. I liked it!
Great piece.
This is a delightful concept, bogged down from my perspective, with too many unnecessary words (that afternoon), and thoughts (…I swear or my name is not….) , and convoluted phrasing (after we’s already done), their space which could have been better used to develop the thought.
I bring a different perspective to this story. Charles is a new grandfather. He recently sent out a picture of Paloma on her 5th month birthday, nibbling her toes. The picture was called “happy baby yoga pose.” The story doesn’t need that background because it is replete with joy. I love the way Charles translates what he sees and feels in “real life” into language. He shares some of that feeling to his readers. This is a charming story.