The Dance
I’m sitting in a chair, rummaging through my purse, holding a cigarette in one
hand and
franticly looking for a lighter with the other.
Damn it,
I whisper.
My head is spinning. I suddenly realize that for the first time in my life, I had one
too
many drinks that night.
My body is numb, but my head feels as if it’s on a roller coaster that won’t end.
The chair I’m sitting in starts to engulf me.
Swallow me.
Drown me.
Eat me alive.
I have to get up.
Get up!
I yell at myself.
My legs won’t move.
I’m stuck.
Paralyzed.
Where the hell is my lighter?
I’m drowning.
Get up.
My legs.
What happened to my damn lighter?
My heart starts to race and I have no control over my thoughts.
I feel someone, a presence next to me.
Don’t look up, find your lighter.
Snap.
I feel warmth next to my face.
My focus turns to where the noise came from.
The presence.
The warmth.
My eyes fixate on the flame in front of me.
A lighter.
A goddamn lighter.
I lean in and let the fire light the tip of my cigarette.
I inhale.
Exhale.
Breath.
The light disappears, revealing a man standing before me, staring at me through
his glasses.
I catch his stare with my own and I begin to fall.
Fall into his stare.
His eyes.
His beautiful dark eyes.
I’m transfixed.
Hypnotized.
Mesmerized.
He takes my hand in his.
The paralysis in my legs disappears and we start to dance.
Slow.
Close.
He holds me tightly against his body.
His breath on my neck, steady and slow.
Like our dance.
Safe.
I feel safe right here.
Right now.
Nothing can harm me.
I’m alive and I love it.
I catch his eyes again.
I smile and he smiles back.
Lovely.
Simply stunning.
Are you going to be okay?
He asks.
What?
Suddenly, I feel as through someone has just poured a bucket of ice water over
me.
I get chills throughout my entire body and I shiver.
My eyes start to focus on him, standing above me, peering through his glasses,
wearing a
puzzled look on his face.
The chair.
I feel the chair beneath me, accepting me rather then swallowing me.
Embarrassed, I look away.
Disconnecting us.
Ending our dance.
Yes, I’m fine. Thanks for the light.
My voice cracks and I swallow nervously.
He smiles, turns around and starts to walk away.
I watch him.
I wait for him to turn around, but he never does.
He’s gone, and all I’m left with is the memory of the dance.
The beautiful dance.
Our dance.
I smile to myself and think,
I’m alive and I love it.
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