This morning there was a break in the rain. It looks like we might have sunlight for the first time all week. I know, we had a lot of sun before. It has been the summer of flood, then super hot sun baking drought, followed by more flooding. I am always thrilled to see the rain because it means a break in the heat and then excited to see the rain go because the sun returns. If each of them would stay just a little shorter time, I might be a little more blasé about the weather. It would be a back drop instead of an important character in my daily story. But such is life. So, the morning writing prompt? Let’s go.
Okay I really like this one. Not sure where it is going but I suspect there is about to be a murder. Won’t that be fun?
Thursday, September 8th: The dress threw out sparkles of light.
The Dress threw out sparkles of light. She was magnificent as she spun and twirled under the overhead lights. Her partner, dressed all in black was like a shadow as they moved. Each step was perfect, each move flawless. It looked effortless.
Having spent quite a lot of my time recently practicing my own dance moves, I knew it was not effortless. In fact I was certain that the more effortless it looked the more effort it took. The look on her face was joyous and serene. She could have been sitting quietly enjoying a book or a cool refreshing drink in the shade instead of executing complicated dance steps in front of hundreds of people, including a panel of stern faced judges.
By contrast her partners face was intense and brooding. His eyes moved about as though making certain of every step, at least when he wasn’t facing the judges. When he faced the judges he made certain to turn his brooding intensity directly at his partner. From their perspective I suspected his efforts made him look as though he could see nothing but his partner, even if the effect was spoiled for the audience.
I had seen these two in class, in fact she was why I was taking the class at the moment. My employer wanted information and while asking questions could have garnered me a few answers, spending the time in class learning to dance gave me more time with her than simply asking about would do. In class she was a kind teacher. She offered gentle correction and encouragement and made all of the students feel as though at some point their bodies would adjust and once through the initial learning phase they too would become fantastic dancers.
Given the skill of some of his fellow students, he had his doubts. But she had a way of making them believe that such a feat was possible.
‘Which I suppose keeps the students returning,’ I thought.
Here the teacher was put away and she was simply a dancer with great skill. As their dance for the competition came to an end with a dramatic flourish, the room exploded into applause. I enthusiastically joined in and let my gaze stray from the couple now taking their bows and leaving the center of the room for the next couple. Many eyes followed them. The women in the audience seemed to swoon over her partner.
I have to admit, I did not see the appeal. He was a nice enough looking man, but not someone I would consider swoon worthy. Admittedly I rarely found anyone swoon worthy. I suspected it was an after effect of spending my life delving into what lay under people’s carefully constructed facades.
I dismissed my own affairs and looked to see that she had almost as many people swooning as he did. While his admirers seemed to be only women, hers came from both men and women. The looks on their faces were different. The men had looks varying from general admiration to lust while the women were a different sort. Many I recognized from class and I knew that more than anything they wanted to be able to dance the way she did. I looked away feeling as though I was intruding on someone’s private dreams and I caught movement by the door. A man entered, his face teasing at my memory.
Ten til Midnight 