I like when one of your arms wraps around my waist and the other reaches for my hand and our fingers intertwine as our connected arms bend upwards at the elbows and you start to rock me from side to side and we dance. Subtle. No music. No beat.(more) No direction. Just side to side, hand in hand. Closer.
That is what I think about as the fairy dust settles on the top of my head and I start to float.
"I'm glad you still take me dancing when I visit," I whisper, as I lay some rocks on your tombstone. The fairy dust wears off, and I sink back to this world. Our daughter gently takes my arm and we walk back to the car.
My joints hurt a bit less today. It must be all that dancing we've been doing.
Beneath a silent forest floor
Where a brook sings so loudly.
My mind begins to swim
With a lost love that is no more.
The green creeping up the rolling knoll.
(more) The trees offering up a prayer.
A gentle breeze of salty air.
The assault of a summer afternoon
On bare white skin.
Longing for the pleasing caress
Of dew kissed morning grass.
Of childhood wonder and carelessness,
Laughing eyes full of what may come.
And I still see you, dancing in the gently wind,
With the flowers that you picked.
Dropping them cautiously into the water.
Red and yellow, drifting to an evening slumber.
you have up to 300 words. what will you say?n(less)
That exotic pull and tug, the tease of being close one moment and so far away the next. Formal, yet intimate. Solid steps (they have to be or you'll fall), that flow with the music as if weightless. Set motions that communicate so much more. A look, a sigh,(more) the lightest of touches all in brief flashes, thrown in thoughtfully when they can be.
And the music! Filling the hole that I dug in myself, the part of me that I made void of meaning or purpose because I wasn't sure what to do with it anyway so why should it be there? Swelling inside of me, moving me to greater risks and stronger motions. It makes me feel as though everything is better than alright. It's not even there! There's just you and me and the music, sweeping our way across an empty floor.
Because if I think about it (and I won't), I'm not your partner. You were given to someone else long ago. So the music is my partner, and yours, and that is how we are connected on nights like this.
Take me dancing, so I can pretend and forget while the music casts the illusion of pulling us closer as we dance apart. (less)
The next time Vriska got out he was there again, just like he said he'd be. John was sitting on a bench near the park where they'd first met. As she neared him Vriska couldn't help but wonder how long John had been there, because while it was already(more) ten, he kept dozing off.
She eased herself down on the bench next to him, crossing her legs and leaning back
"Waiting for someone?"
"Yeah you could say that-"
John's answer was cut short as he turned, finnally noticing who he was actually sitting next to, she grinned
He chuckled and his face split in a blinding smile
"Hey Vriska! I was starting to think you'd forgotten about me"
"Well I very well could have Egbert! I have soooooooo many irons in the fire its a wonder I could make time for you"
They shared a laugh before he smiled and took her hand
"So what are we doing today?"
She grins at him and runs her thumb over his hand
"Well, I was thinking, why don't you take me dancing?"(less)
her elbows pressed against the rail. the wind blew her loose curls into her mouth. she grimaced.
the dancing had been dizzying, the music too loud. the people smelled like cheap perfume and hormones.
(more) she sighed. this was her birthday. it was supposed to be a fun night—her night. but brent had come and ruined it all.
they'd had so much fun together last year. [background. etc.](less)
The heat weighed myself and my wife down. We laid on the springy motel bed refusing to look at the colorful bedsheets. The patterns made our heads spin and our stomachs knot. Still, we made no conscious effort smother the heat with the ceiling fan. We simply stared at(more) its blades, hungry for the cold. I tuned out the noise coming from my unfamiliar next to me. Her tired, irritable tirade had no audience. She was battling the heat while I let it conquer me. Oh, she's waiting for an answer. Shit, what was she saying? Take me dancing? Well, it didn't sound like anything else. "Dancing? We can go dancing if you want, Sheryl?", I said to the fan. Her answer, once again, faded into white noise. Monotonous white noise. I, meanwhile, would rather be away from this women than swivel my heels with her. Perhaps if she turned on the propellor hanging over her she'd calm down. Maybe if her eyes followed the patterns in the bedsheets she'd forget about the heat and me. I, unlike her, welcome the nausea.(less)
The night air was cool on my skin, the wind sweet and melodic, flowing passionately with the sound of music coming from the open doors behind us. People swayed and stepped to the beat, in rhythm with the rich melod(more)y of violin waltzes.
I HATED this kind of joyous environment.
"Why?" I told her. She looked up at me, confused. She was rubbing my arm softly with gloved hands.
"What do you mean? Is it not tradition for a gentleman such as you to take a lady for a dance?"
"Why should I follow tradition? What makes you think you can tell me what I should do? I don't even know you, for starters." I was starting to get riled up. The way she looked at me, with a seductive kind of sweetness, the way she played with my hand and fingers, the way she leaned her scantily clad body on me...
I HATED all of it.
"I do things when I want to do them. You have no right to tell me to take you for a dance."
The woman was starting to become flustered. "W-well, we could at least go out for a drink..."
I snapped. "Enough. Pick on some other poor guy. I'm not your toy." I gave her my coldest glare and walked away briskly, leaving her by herself. She stared after me, then at her hands, as if the arm she was clutching was still there.