Collections of Embellished Fictions, Philosophies, and Poetry

I Dreamed a Dance

May 20. 2020.

I like to dance. I like to feel the swish of my pant legs against my bumpy, blemished skin. I like to move my arms, freckled at the shoulders, I like to move them as a swan sways its beautiful, pure neck. I think I should make it clear my arms are not pure. They are the work of the devil: so alluring, so inviting, so mesmerising, and yet! so tainted, so evil. I like to think with each bad deed, the heart blackens like necrotising fasciitis. I like to think the heart stains, and shrivel to a dark, deadly organ that pumps out nothing but ink and guck.

I do not have that heart. I have a heart worse than that. My heart is one I cherish and love, and I regret nothing I did to keep it this way. I will never regret the dancing.

When I dance, I like to show the tendons and muscles in my neck, women (and men) seem to love it. When I dance, I like to move my torso out and in, out and in. I am not particularly toned, I've no muscly ounce in my body. I suppose its the lanky legs and the long face that is attractive. Whatever slight flab I've got is hidden, I don't think it bothers anyone, though.

When I dance, I like to sway, like bamboo bends in the wind. Flash and show is not really my style. I enjoy grace and tranquility, I enjoy creeping slow, and softness. In night clubs I stand out not because I have great moves, but because I hardly move at all.

It is here I believe you should know a little bit of my personality. My charm rivals that of Johnny Depp, and I attract people like honey. You know this already. I enjoy it immensely; flies stuck in webs are so easy to wrap up, to tangle, to strangle. I like to watch them dance, I dance around them. It is a slow waltz, with calming music, but I leech their life source, and leave them empty at the end. What is curious, though, is they dance. They dance until their feet break, they dance and they know it. The waltz aches them, but they love it, they savour it, and it amuses me so! I love to be malicious, I love it when they become me.

My hobbies include weaving them in my web. I would include this on my résumé, but this is an interview so what am I to do? This is between you and me, and no one else. You are special, you see. You are one of the only people in this godforsaken world to know me like this. It means I trust you, do you understand? Good. It is an honour for anyone to gain my trust. And you have, so easily! Let's talk more about me. You want to know more about me.

As I was saying, weaving people is what I do best. I love to tangle them up in strings, bind their arms to wooden planks, and play them like puppets. I make them dance wonderfully. They dance for me sometimes, when I am tired, and when I am sleeping they continue, because now it is what they know. I'm sorry? What do you mean? They have changed? Oh no, don't be silly. They haven't changed. The only thing they have ever known is how to dance. They've been that way the whole time.

They've been that way the whole time.

They've been that way the whole time.

They've been that way-

Oh, sorry! Back to me. I like to dance around them. You won't believe how easy it is to lie to someone. When one is as dark as the night, you tend to infect the people around you. How do other people know the truth when they can't see through the pitch black? It is strange, you see. I am very sure you agree.

Perhaps you'd like to see it in action? I like to dance gracefully, remember. See the way I move around you, around in circles. See, that is what I call the double eclipse. It is a lovely little thing, not quite a showstopper, however. And here, I beckon you to stand up, to stand up, to stand up, to take my hand, to stand up, to take my hand, to take my hand, to take my hand. And now off to a Bolero! I see you know how to. A skilled one, you are.

We're still in an interview so I will keep going. We've talked about my abilities, let's talk about how exactly I harness them. Ooh! You stepped on my toe. Well, to be precise, it's a different tale every time. Would you mind putting the pen down? It's a bit sharp. We can record this conversation. Good. Be sure not to sit on it! It is very protruding, I couldn't imagine it stabbing into my buttock. Now, sometimes when I dance, I get a little excited. I get an urge to explore. So what I do is I lay the fly down and dance around them, almost like a little ritual. They hardly feel a thing. It's a good thing this carpet is soft.

I can hear you humming. That's cute. The Bolero is one of the most romantic dances, you know? They've been that way the whole time. Now, get comfortable into your new position the whole time, and feel the music there is no music. This pen is like a razor. Are you sure you use it for writing? You could open packaging tape with this.

Oh, no, don't look uncomfortable. The music is still going there is no music and I'm still dancing, so everything is fine. I like twirling your pen in my fingers. It feels so nice, so familiar. So you see, they don't really feel much. They're too much into it to know I'm exploring what I can do. I don't mind, really. It is perfectly alright with me. I usually take it up like this! And bring it down, and the stinging subsides. They're far too entangled in it at this point, so we can begin the Foxtrot. Here, I can start talking.

I prefer sliding instead of pushing. Sliding is familiar, because I can cook, and slic- sliding the cheese across the grater is so much easier than pushing it. And besides, it's less messier that way. I like to watch the liquids pour out, you can see the demonstration yourself. When it pools on the ground, I find myself in the most delighted state, you can't imagine. And finally, when I dance around the parts I bind to the wooden planks-

Oh. I almost forgot. Look back up, because you forgot, too.

When I dance around the parts I bind to the wooden planks, this is the uniform phase of every time I put my abilities to use. Why, I slide a little line over the most important part, and they don't even feel it. They are too busy watching me dance, I like to watch them dance. They are too busy swaying to the music they're not doing anything at all.

Would you like a demonstration?

Oh, dear.

You're dead.

Lovely.