"500 yards,"
"Im counting 300 steps," he replied after much thought.
"Steps? That's not very specific, is it?"
"No, I guess not. But i want to be the one who decides how far it is- after all, I am the one walking it."
With that he took off- and he counted to 299 when he had his arms around her again.
. .
I curtseyed and stood infront of him. Biting my lip, I looked up and gave a nervous smile.
"Don't think, just follow me." With these words, he swiftly tucked his arm under mine and pulled me in.
Taking a sudden step forward, I found myself only a breath away from him. At my waist he held me gently yet firmly, his palm spreaded a light tingle across my skin.
In his other hand he held my hand, and then he murmured as he took a step forward.
"1-2-3, 1-2-"
Repeating the counts, he guided me across the dance floor ever so rhythmical, ever so gracefully.
YOU ARE READING
fragments
Krótkie Opowiadaniathese are fragments of an unfinished story, incomplete tales that end too quickly and strangers who appear in the rush of black ink.
