A Nice Dance to a Different Tune
The song was something modern, tragically pained and painfully slow. The dance floor thudded along slowly to the beat beneath his feet, though a different saw rang through his own head.
“I wish you could swim, like the dolphins…like dolphins can swim…“
She bore the countenance of a soul forever lost to blend in with the walls at any social gathering. Her dress was outdated and ill-fitting, sure signs of a hand-me-down disaster. The hair, clumsily done by well-intentioned hands probably smelled of cheap shampoo. Her eyes took in the scene before her without seeing a soul.
“Though nothing, nothing will keep us together. We can beat them, forever and ever…“
The concept of ‘social suicide’ tumbled through his brain somewhere between the two beats. The fact that he didn’t have very far to fall in terms of social standing was little consolation. But damn his eyes, he had seen her pain.
“Oh we can be heroes, just for one day…“
He extended his hand, “May I have this dance?”