May I Have This Dance?

She stood in the middle of the polished wooden floor which was worn smooth by years of shuffling feet.  He stood before her, resplendent in his black and white tuxedo.  Oh, he was so handsome.  He took her hand in his, and slipped his other hand to the small of her slender back.  As one, they began to glide across the dance floor. 

The heavy red velvet curtains hung to the floor along the back wall.  Though they only covered an old brick wall, they lent an air of majesty and sophistication to the old dance hall.  From somewhere unseen, the music wafted through the room and carried them along with its melancholy notes.

She put her head against his shoulder as he continued to effortlessly guide her around and around the dance floor.  She revelled in the strength of him, in the solid feel of him.  And all she could keep thinking was, “You came.  You really came to me.”

Together they moved as one, gracefully covering the length of the old dance floor again and again.  There was no other moment.  There was nothing more important than this moment that they were sharing together.  Her happiness welled up from inside her and spilled down her cheeks in little rivulets of joy.  She felt herself smile through her tears.  And still they continued to dance –  slowly, gracefully, lovingly moving together and sharing the joy of their moment.

Slowly the music faded away, taking the images away too.