The Wand, the Salsa, and the Back

This is dedicated to all who suffer from chronic back pain. I have multiple spinal fractures surrounding the L 10 area. FYI it is very painful.

One remembers when he or she could dance the salsa all night long. Step into Outstages Cafe Art Studio.

The Wand, the Salsa, and the Back That Wanted to Dance Character Seeds

1. The Wand

Not a dainty fairy wand no.

This one is a little sarcastic, a little tired of being asked for miracles, but still loyal.

It’s carved from a tree that used to be a troublemaker.

It mutters things like,

“I can’t fix everything, but I can nudge reality if you ask nicely.”

It’s the wand that knows the difference between pain and drama, and respects both.

2. The Salsa

Not a person but a spirit.

A rhythm with hips.

A shimmering, laughing presence that shows up whenever someone even thinks about joy.

It doesn’t walk; it swirls.

It doesn’t talk; it syncopates.

It’s the embodiment of

“Remember when your body used to move like this? She is still in there.”

3. The Back That Wanted to Dance

This is the most human of the three.

A character with history, humor, and a little bit of attitude.

It remembers every move it ever made and every move it wishes it could still make.

It’s stubborn, loyal, and occasionally dramatic.

It says things like,

“I didn’t sign up for this pain nonsense. *My purpose is to create rhythm. *

How they meet (the spark of the story)

One morning, while you’re wishing for a magic wand and a salsa spin, these three characters overhear you.

The Wand rolls its eyes but shows up anyway.

The Salsa swirls in like a warm breeze.

And the Back… well, the Back straightens up and says,

“If they’re here, maybe today’s the day.”

The Wand, the Salsa, and the Back That Wanted to Dance

The morning began with a sigh, the kind of sigh that comes from a back that had once danced the salsa with reckless joy and now negotiated every movement like a peace treaty. It was not a dramatic sigh, just a tired one. A sigh, that said, “I remember who I used to be.”

That was when the Wand appeared.

Not a glamorous wand. Not a glitter covered, fairy approved wand.

It seemed as if this had been sitting forgotten in a junk drawer for ten years.

It cleared its throat with a wooden, unimpressed sound.

“You called?” it said.

“I didn’t call,” the Back muttered. “I just wished.”

“Same thing,” the Wand replied, rolling its eyes. “People always think magic is for emergencies. Are you aware of how frequently people ask me to assist with issues involving hips, knees, and lower backs? I should unionize.”

Before the Back could respond, the air shimmered.

A rhythm slipped into the room warm, golden, mischievous.

The Salsa had arrived.

It did not walk. It did not speak.

It swirled, hips first, laughter trailing behind like perfume.

“Oh no,” the Back whispered. “Not you.”

The Salsa circled it lovingly, like an old friend who remembered every spin, every dip, every night the Back had once belonged to the music.

The Wand tapped itself against the floor.

“Alright, everyone calms down.” The human wants relief, not a full blown dance revival.”

But the Salsa was not listening.

It leaned close to the Back, whispering in rhythm:

You still remember.

You still want to move.

You still know joy.

The Back straightened, not much, but enough to feel like something inside it woke up.

“I can’t dance,” it said softly. “Not like before.”

The Salsa shimmered.

The Wand sighed.

And together they answered:

“Then we start with a sway.”

The Back hesitated.

A sway felt small.

But it also felt possible.

So, it swayed just once, just enough to remind itself that movement was not gone, only different.

The Salsa cheered.

The Wand nodded approvingly.

And the Back, for the first time in a long while, felt like just maybe the story was not over.

Not the dancing story.

Not the joy story.

Not the magic story.

Just a new chapter.

And somewhere in the room, the faintest rhythm began again.

Scene: The Peace Treaty at the Counter

The smell of Rosa’s carnitas was the only thing capable of grounding the room while the Salsa spirit was busy turning the air into golden ribbons. Rosa, standing at a solid 5’2” with her long black hair tied back, leaned against the counter of the taco stand. Her dark olive skin glowed under the café’s neon jazz lights as she slid a plate of street tacos toward the center.

"You're overthinking it again, Vicki," Rosa said, her voice a calm anchor. She glanced down at the Wand, which was currently vibrating against the wood with a rhythmic, wooden thwack.

"Overthinking?" The Wand’s amber eyes widened in a skeptical roll. "I’m not overthinking; I’m calculating the structural integrity of a spine that hasn’t seen a dance floor since the late nineties. I really should have joined that union back in '76."

Rosa did not blink. She just tapped her fingers on the counter, matching the Wand's grumpy vibration. "It’s a taco stand, not a boardroom, Troublesome. Let the music hold her."

You leaned back, the weight of the day and the stubbornness of your Back feeling a little lighter under the gaze of your buddy. Your long pink hair caught the amber glow of the Wand and the golden shimmer of the Salsa as it swirled closer, whispering You still remember.

The Wand let out a wooden sigh. "Fine. But if we pull a muscle, I’m filing a grievance."

Rosa winked at you. "Ignore him. Eat your taco. Then sway."

And right there, between the scent of cilantro and the hum of the magic, your Back straightened just a fraction. You did not leap; you did not spin. You just let the music take the lead.

Then, you started with a sway.

1. The Wand

Not a dainty fairy wand no.

This one is a little sarcastic, a little tired of being asked for miracles, but still loyal.

It is carved from a tree that used to be a troublemaker.

It mutters things like,

“I can’t fix everything, but I can nudge reality if you ask nicely.”

It is the wand that knows the difference between pain and drama, and respects both.

2. The Salsa

Not a person but a spirit.

A rhythm with hips.

A shimmering, laughing presence that shows up whenever someone even thinks about joy.

It does not walk; it swirls.

It does not talk; it syncopates.

It is the embodiment of

“Remember when your body used to move like this? She is still in there.”

3. The Back That Wanted to Dance

This is the most human of the three.

A character with history, humor, and a little bit of attitude.

It remembers every move it ever made and every move it wishes it could still make.

It is stubborn, loyal, and occasionally dramatic.

It says things like,

“I did not sign up for this pain nonsense. *My purpose is to create rhythm. *

How they meet (the spark of the story)

One morning, while you are wishing for a magic wand and a salsa spin, these three characters overhear you.

The Wand rolls its eyes but shows up anyway.

The Salsa swirls in like a warm breeze.

And the Back… well, the Back straightens up and says,

“If they’re here, maybe today’s the day.”