Greta looked warily at the hand held out to her. It was large and rough; black dirt embedded under the nails.
She forced a smile to her lips as she allowed her carefully manicured fingers to be swallowed within its grasp.
He towered over her as he led her to the dance floor. she spied the perfectly matched couples swirling gracefully.
Greta swallowed her sigh. The luck of the draw.
His arm encircled her waist and he twirled her into the music. Greta’s reserve fled as the crowd moved back to watch.
That night, he danced her into her dreams.
I friend of mine has been taking ballroom dancing classes and I've attended a few of her "recitals." It is surprising how nimble some of the least expected dancers can be.
ReplyDeleteinteresting how first impressions can hide the gems. Nicey written
ReplyDeleteDancing into dreams--I like that.
ReplyDelete