She was a simple wooden girl, and nary had a thought run through her simple wooden head in many years. She could never move but for when Owner pulled her strings taught, and Owner did this often, sometimes daily. It was only during those moments that the simple wooden girl would think, and her only thought in those moments was how she loved to dance. The wooden girl would never see Owner pull her strings, so intent was she on watching her body slide and twirl through the air. The spin of colors about her mesmerized the wooden girl to wake her from a reverie of thoughtlessness. But Owner would, for no reason at all, push the simple wooden girl to the ground, sending her wooden limbs flailing, ending the wooden girl's dance and her only thought.

The simple wooden girl hated these times on the ground, where she could not move and often times not see. It is ironic that she felt this, for once not too long ago; the simple wooden girl would have done the same thing. Once, the wooden girl was human, though she was still simple. She was not a smart girl, nor did she have a skill to her name. She walked through life with simple desires and lusts, getting what she wanted by means of her father's credit card. And then one night, as she walked through a mall, she heard a flute playing a haunting tune. It entered her mind and refused to leave; it infuriated her and she sought out the flute player, whom she found sitting calmly on a fountain bench, playing her music for a small crowd of cross-legged children. With no thought but to end that accursed music, she moved through the crowd and pushed the flutist into the fountain. She sneered at the soaking woman and turned away. But then her legs wobbled under her weight, her body swayed, and the simple girl stopped moving.

That was many years ago, and now the simple wooden girl had not a memory of her life before. Indeed, she had no intelligence to speak of, not knowing any words or thinking any thoughts, but for wanting to dance. But this one thought was fading quickly into the deep of her wooden mind, until Owner carefully pulled her strings and stood the wooden girl back on her feet. She circled the wooden girl, tugging each part of her body to the perfect position. And then Owner reached her hand out and just barely did her fingers graze the simple wooden girl's chin.

Owner recoiled; a look of shock spread on her face for just a moment, her body swayed and her legs wobbled, and she froze. The simple girl then did a miraculous thing: she moved, now freed of strings and wooden parts. She gazed at her hands, feet, and arms, watched them glide through the air in the ways Owner had taught her over the many years, but on their own. She then saw Owner, standing still in the exact fashion the simple girl had stood not seconds ago. She skipped around the wooden girl, and bent down to look into the wooden face of a simple girl. The Dancer grinned spun about. She looked at Owner, and had her first thought in many years. The Dancer poked Owner in her shoulder, and the simple wooden girl collapsed. She smiled ever more brightly, and skipped from the room, wondering if there was a place in the world where she could learn to dance.