dance

Others Stories | Aug 19, 2013 | 2 min read
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A wood plank fell from the ceiling and slammed onto the old carpet, kicking up that once restful dust into a plume. The man grabbed his maiden's hand and danced to the rhythm of the building's haunting creaks. Dancing about the room, he felt the world slowly assimilating with him. The patrons stared over at him and his partner with pleasure. The sweet sight of two lovers celebrating their love through the celestial act of dancing. The tone of the music increased. As if the sight of a bird flying through the air could be expressed through music. The man felt the call of the visualization and lifted his beautiful maiden into the air. She stared down at him with the heavenly gaze that now seemed to hold the secrets of the stars and the world itself.

Becoming lighter and lighter, she seemed to weigh as much as air. He closed his eyes as her body melded with his. He was merely holding up his arms, embracing the ceiling. His eyes opened slowly to collect her beauty once more. Black pits stared back down at him and a lipless mouth hung open limply, beckoning for a kiss. The clattering of bones from the other patrons echoed as they clapped in celebration of their dance. The man lowered her back down and stared at his fleshy hands. She approached him gracefully. Her pink hands wrapped around some of his fingers and he accepted her offer for a dance again.

Twirling to the harmony of the music, the floor was a cloud. They danced on water droplets and the mitigating, thin tendrils of the cloud's mist wrapped around their legs and allowed them to glide smoothly across the boards.

The fire grew cold and blew out a rush of cold air up the man's spine. Startled, he looked back and beheld the stagnant fireplace. Crowded with ancient cobwebs and hungry spiders. Not an ember to be found. His maiden's hands disappeared from his shoulders and vanished into the void of the old mansion. He spun around and saw the heaped bones of his lover on the ground. Fleshless bodies sat reclined in their chairs, staring at him. The spark inside one man's socket grew and grew until it illuminated the whole room. The man's lover sat on the ground and invitingly lifted up her delicate hands and asked for assistance in rising up off the cold marble floor. He obliged and fearfully danced. Constantly searching around the room, looking at the wrinkled faces of the observers; he began to fear the inevitable shedding of their living facades. Smiles would fade and nothing would show. Only the hollow emptiness that they once were would return and that's what would live on.

The music pitched downward into a baritone. It weighed down on his skull and filled it with pressure unlike anything he had ever experienced. The music squealed and went off on a tangent of missed notes and ungodly screeches. And then it stopped. The man looked around the dark room. Empty chairs, old cobwebs, dust, a broken piano, and an empty ballroom dress were his dance partners now. And that would never change.

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