Day 64 of 365 Days of Writing Prompts: Write about a dance.

Erin: She danced as medicine. If she was sad she’d blare some jams, and create choreography. When her boyfriend and her were fighting, they would sway and dance to music in the living room until they were cheered up. Anger could be defused by screaming along to a song. Nerves could be calmed, with an upbeat pump up song. Medicine could cure all ailments.

Shannon: “Lindsay told me the truth,” Paul grabbed my arm to turn me toward him.

“What are you doing on this side of the stage? You’re suppose to start on the other side, and what are you talking about?”

“She said you accepted the offer. Did you?” His eyes demanded an answer.

Of course Lindsay would tell him right before we had to go on the stage. She’d made it evident she wanted him since the first day he joined the studio, so when he end up dating me she did everything in her power to try to sabotage the relationship. She also wasn’t thrilled when I got the lead in this number. I guess she was saving her attack for the perfect explosion. I wondered how she even found out. “Yes I did,” I finally admitted.

“So why did you lie to me,” he questioned, angrier than I’d ever seen him before.

“Because it doesn’t have to end. I don’t want it to end,” my voice wavered.

“If that were true you wouldn’t have taken the offer over me. It’s over,” he backed away, shaking his head with a look of disgust.

“So that it?” I felt my own anger arise at how easy it was for him to call it off.

“Isabelle get out there. You’re going to miss your cue,” a stagehand pushed me to the edge of the curtain. The show must go on, my dance teacher’s voice replayed in my head and I attempted to clear my thoughts as I stepped forward. I only hoped Paul would at least try to do the same for what could be our last dance.

I did my routine to get myself into position to wait for Paul. The pause for him to join felt longer than usual, and I started to believe he was going to leave me stranded out there alone. Suddenly I felt myself being lifted up, and I could breathe easily again. His hands were rougher as he squeezed my sides, and he didn’t set me down as gracefully as he did in rehearsal.

I managed to keep my facial emotions under control, but this was turning into a continuation of our verbal fight. We were following the choreography, but the emotions and the feelings behind each move conveyed so much more than any of our performances before. It was a goodbye dance, one that could acknowledge the passion and the formation of a tender bond, while also demonstrating the pain.

I felt the emotions of this dance more deeply than I’d ever felt a dance before. It was empowering to know what it felt like to loose myself in a moment. At the end a tear fell from my eye as we both took a bow, because that moment was over and I doubted it could ever exist again.

Make your character dance, dance, dance, dance.