Their feet stomped vaguely familiar waltz patterns on the glossy floor, wheeling and pirouetting with their partners.

“Let us dance,” one would say.

“Let us fly,” the other would reply, and they would interlock in a waltz like no other.

Like kittens, they were, new to the world but uncaring, trying new things like dance but not understanding, eyes closed for the first few weeks. And again, they didn’t care.

The music played off their glamorous suits and dresses, sparkling for the night affair. It echoed around the room. And the kittens loved it.

Because for this moment, they could pretend they were of a higher class, of a higher social status. They could pretend like it mattered.

And they laughed fake laughs.

And they hid sad expressions behind champagne glasses.

And the kitties danced the night away.