Short Stories

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I move around the dance floor, with each stride my beautiful ivory gown swishes against my ankles. Unique embellishments of delicate lace adorn the dress’s neckline. A necklace of tiny pearls accentuates my fragile neck, and a hint of gold shines from each of my ears. My hair is swept up in a stately, but striking, fashion, and a few loose tendrils frame my round face. My heart pumps wildly as my feet carry me across the marble floor, my shoes clinging lightly with each step.

Girls dress in extravagant gowns dance with men in sharp looking tuxedos. They carry themselves in perfect posture and perfect step.

Me, I dance alone.

Suitors have long to dance with me, and ask me often, but my steps are free and graceful when I’m dancing alone. I intimately know the footings to every dance. The sounds of the orchestra and the strains of melodies I recognize by name. To have a partner would only hinder my every step. Alone, nothing can hold me back, each of my movements like wind whispering through forest trees, or like a breeze brushing against a calm sea.

The chorus of my favorite melody begins to play. I know this song best, I know each note that has passed and each note next to come. I have memorized precisely when and where to place my slender feet, and know the right moment for a dip or spin.

I close my eyes and imagine I am nimble enough to dance across the ocean, whose salty air beckons me through the open winds of the grand ballroom. The warm breeze floats around me, but becomes a cool rush against my skin with every twist and twirl.

Soon the dazzling melody slows to a stop, and a choir of stringed instruments begins a song I have never heard. The tune is warm, vibrant, and exciting.

As I prepare to start a dance, I notice the couples around me. Their dance is picturesque and they seem comfortable with their motions. My heart begins to beat nervously, I do not know this dance.

With a deep breath, I bravely try to dance to the new song. As I start to move, my lithely feet falter, then slide from beneath me. I feel myself falling towards the stone floor. Clenching my body in preparation for a collapse, I am suddenly caught before I hit the ground.

Shaking, I peer up to the man who has caught me. His big eyes are gentle and his mouth smiles tenderly. He sets me fully on my feet, and for a moment our gaze holds. Just as quickly, I turn away, remembering the frustration and embarrassment of being unable to dance to the new song.

I take a step away from the comely stranger, but he grasps my hand, preventing me from moving forward. Gently, he turns me toward himself. His brow is furrowed in sadness and disappointment.

Our eyes meet again, and he bows like a gentleman, then holds his hand out asking for a dance.

I gently shake my head to decline, but in stead he clasps my hand in to his then places my free hand on his stately shoulder. He brings his open hand to rest on the crook of my waist, and begins to move.

The man starts to lead me in this unknown dance, while the voice of the song grows richer in the background. Though its beautiful harmonies please my ear, my clumsy feet find his at every step.

I look down sheepishly, my cheeks ablaze in humiliation. I look back up, and his eyes twinkle at me, but he says nothing, and doesn’t complain about the discomfort. He only grins kindly, and squints his eyes slightly in determination, which grows with every missed step.

I smile back nervously, but my heart is flustered. I’m discouraged that I can no longer move about as I had before.

I look to the other couples dancing about, they know exactly what to do. I become a bit infuriated because I can neither dance alone or with the kindest of young men. But the anger inside me quickly turns to sadness, and a tear begins a solemn path down my cheek.

I feel myself being drawn towards the man, and I look to his face in surprise.

He takes a gently hand and wipes the lonely tear away, smiles tenderly and leads me to the next step.

In the background the climax of the song trills and rejoices in sudden triumph. The lively sound encourages me, and my stumbling becomes less and less.

As the dance becomes more familiar, everything begins to fade away. Only the music remains, creating a flowing background for our dance. Our spins and twirls come more frequently and unexpected. I feel more free and graceful than before.

Suddenly, I realize that this dance had once been clumsy and awkward, but it has flourished into a dance of our own. A dance only we will ever know.

I look deeply into the eyes of the man who has taught me this profound dance. It takes no words for his eyes to tell me that he has always known this dance, and that he’s always known me. I smile widely, wanting to learn the dance further.

He smiles back and draws me closer to himself.

A new joy awakens within my heart as we continue to begin our dance.

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