Wednesday, June 15, 2016

Dancing with a Phantom


The music was heavenly, and though we were the only ones who heard it, our dance was not any less pleasant.

Eventually the music stopped, or changed its meaning. If I did notice, I do not recall, and if I do recall, I will be in denial.

I do not know when she left, or if she was even there.

I moved on, nevertheless, dancing a dance meant for two. I never made a wrong move, for a phantom cannot complain.

And when she did complain, before I realized that in dancing with the phantom, I stepped on her toes, she was gone: leaving me wondering who I was dancing with. The phantom too left, as the silence was heard, and my feet ached.

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