TANGO
The only problem –
he doesn’t know I’m alive. Outside of setting myself on fire in front of him, I
can’t think of any way I can capture his attention. I’ve consulted the Gods and
they haven’t been any help whatsoever.
If I could only
stop thinking about him, but how to do that is the dilemma. He’s really nothing
special to look at but when he walks into a room, my poor heart sinks into my
shoes. One thing I do know – he dances the tango divinely. Once upon a time, I
saw his sensual body movements as he danced; it was sheer magic the way he moved
effortlessly across the floor with his partner.
I imagined myself in my red dress and stiletto heels as his partner; clinging
to him, following his every command, thrilling to his domination; I was in
seventh heaven. Well, maybe not seventh
heaven but it was up there somewhere.
The very first
time I saw him, I was ascending a flight of stairs leading to the museum, he
was descending. We passed in the middle.
He didn’t notice me. I stopped and turned – he kept going. I felt the
overpowering urge to follow him. I didn’t. Another one of the ‘what ifs’ in my
life.
The next time, it
was at a public dance and he didn’t seem to be with anyone. Maybe I’ll just ask
him for a dance. What if he laughs at me?
That would be horrible. I would have to leave the building. And then
there would be the humility of seeing him around the campus. Death by a
thousand cuts would be easier.
But what if he
doesn’t mind and accepts me for a few precious minutes. I would be able to touch him, feel his
warmth, experience his embrace, his scent, the look in his eyes.
“May I have this
dance?” I held my breath.
He looked up and
smiled. “Yes, of course.” He got up and moved closer. “Do you tango?”
“Yes, I do.”
“I’m so glad you
asked.”
“You are?”
“Yes, I’ve been
watching you.”
“You have?”
“Yes. The red
dress is perfect. You are so beautiful.”
“Thank you.”
The tango music began.
“Shall we?” He
took my hand and lead me onto the dance floor; with a swirl, I was in his arms.
Our eyes connected; I was floating effortlessly across the floor. We were one,
I was his.
The alarm went off.
I slammed my hand on the off button. “DAMNATION!”
THE
END
Thank you for
reading this story. Here’s a little humor to send you on your way, cheers. JT

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