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Topic: The Prom (08/02/04)
TITLE: Flight Of Fancy
By Corinne Smelker
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“Hi. I’m Fabio,” he says, making me catch my breath as it tries to steal away.
Love hangs in the air before dropping with a ‘thunk’ on the floor, leaving the atmosphere to be filled instead with the heavy, redolent scents of Mystique and Lynx; and the sweat of hundreds of teenage bodies gyrating to the beat.
My heart knocks against my chest, but I tell it to go away, all the while wallowing in the shallows of his ocean-gray eyes. My insides feel like a butterfly emerging from its cocoon, all damp and squishy, like a day-old cookie at the bottom of a spoilt glass of milk that’s been left out in the sun too long.
“Let’s dance,” his voice is melodious, reminding me of a Daffy Duck cartoon. He takes my hand, and apologetically I ask for it back. We dance to the strains of ‘Saturday Night Fever’. It’s so strained, all the rhythm is leached from me and I dance no better than a one-legged woman with two left feet. Fabio doesn’t seem to mind, and I discover that I’m being swept off my feet, but Fabio drops the broom in the process.
“Oh darling,” I breathe in his ear, like a buzzing mosquito that disturbs the heavy sleeper after a long, hard day at work. He stares down at my own mud-brown eyes, and I melt in his arms, as had the chocolate that melted all over the passenger seat of my Yugo.
“Let’s get out of here,” he exclaims and together we leave the dance floor and move outside to the comparative quiet of the garden.
“Oh Fabio! I love you in the same way Angelina Jolie and Billy Bob Thornton don’t!” I tell him rapturously. He laughs, displaying teeth as white as piano ivories that have been left in a dark corner to molder.
“Will we see each other again?” I ask him.
“Of course. Let’s move into the light,” he suggests matter-of-factly.
Slowly we wend our way back to the hall, drowning in each other’s eyes. We stumble and he drops my hand. I stoop to pick it up, and when I stand, he’s disappeared. I try to scan the room for him, but my scanner isn’t talking to my PC.
My heart sinks to my feet, and stays there in a blue funk as I realize my one chance of romance at the prom left with him.