The Dance

A room full of people

Of bending limbs and bodies

Standing together

Watching

Waiting.

The harsh strum of dissonance

In the sound of violins and cellos

Floats through the air

And their feet begin to move.

There are no limits

To the graceful movements of their arms

As they reach up toward the sky

Pushing against the thick air in the room

The hot, sticky air

Moist and ringing with the dissonance,

The movements of their legs and their pointed feet

As they spin and twirl and leap

Blurry figures reflected in the mirrors that line the walls.

They move together

Following the woman in the front

Who leads the group.

Her movements are terse and strict

And her arms move precisely

Like branches of a tree blowing in the wind

But never bending.

She turns to her right

And a new leader takes control,

This one's movements more fluid

More like water

Like the current of a river running slowly and smoothly

Carrying leaves down with it

As it makes its way through a quiet forest.

The third leader is bold;

He follows the dissonance in the music

Moving strangely

Twisting

Turning

Making haunting shapes with his body

And the energy shifts in the room

The lights almost dimmer than before.

The music softens

Dissonance resolving

And the final leader begins.

She moves swiftly

But on gentle feet

Stepping on her toes so as not to wake the dissonance again,

And she moves her arms

As if she were shaping the night sky

Hanging stars across the room

And breathing life into the eeriness

That came before.

She lifts her leg and brings it to her face,

Closing her eyes

She lowers it again

And stands before the mirror.

The music stops.