Two couples took to the floor. One couple was a clumsy pair of kids trying to make out what they could of the dance. But the second couple, the pair that everyone was watching in an amazed daze, was taking to the floor. They took leaping steps across the dance floor, using the elegance that one could only hope to conjure. And it seemed they had it in their bones as they twirled, leaped, and sweeped across the dance floor. Seeming as if the two were one.
The two were a girl's camp counselors. This girl had blue and brunette hair with tree bark brown eyes. She watched in amazement, but also sadness. She felt compared to them, a broken legged insect. For she couldn't dance if it were to save her own life. But she tried her best to learn. But then she heard something in her ear. Something that her friend Mathew whispered in her ear.
"You can't think. You just have to leave your mind blank and follow." And with that he left, spinning off to the other end of the makeshift dance floor.
And what he told truly left her dumbstruck. For thinking was the only thing she did. It was something she always counted on to be there, her thoughts. But oh did she love dancing, letting the rhythm pulse through her body and into the earth below. And in that one second filled with a million thoughts, she swept them away. Making a split second decision. She swept it clean and let the rhythm and her lead take over.
It was strange, but she felt a part of the earth. She felt like the flowing wind, the graceful animals, and the constantly changing earth all in one. And as she spun, constant flashes of the blue hair underneath her brunette mesmerized the others. And she felt like grace in itself. But one sad piece of knowledge would soon put her into a divet of depression later. In this safe bubble, where she was sweeping across the dance floor, she was happy. But soon, she would be far away from this safe haven of dance. She would be back in the city, where women were expected to shake vigorously to the music, instead of leaping, twisting, and turning elegantly. And that was that. The sad truth of it all.
