The dance hall

The darkened hall was full of life. Dancers were crammed in tightly, sucking in the stale air and screaming it back out in chorus with the live band. The walls pulsed and the floor shook, slippery with sweat and spilled drinks. The dancers didn’t slip though. They couldn’t; there was nowhere to fall. Jumping up, and down, heads throbbing with the relentless beats.

“Do ya wanna drink?”

Anna stared at Harry, her brow furrowed as she tried to read the words from his drowned out lips. He mimed downing a drink, and she nodded, relieved that he didn’t gesture for her to come down from the windowsill and go with him. His strong, athletic body was swallowed by the crowd as he pressed towards the back of the hall, and Anna hoped he wouldn’t hurry back. Harry was a nice guy, but if this was his idea of fun, he wasn’t for her.

Bright lights beamed across the room for a moment as a song came to the end, and then suddenly died to leave everyone half blind. There were squeals of laughter, until the next song started and the jumping frenzy began again. People were yelling the lyrics like they were expelling demons, and Anna watched them, feeling a million miles away on her windowsill.

She didn’t hate these people. She just couldn’t understand the flowing passions, the human needs that moved people to behave like this. There was a force at work here so powerful that the crowd left reality behind, and collectively dived into musical fantasy.

In other words, she was jealous.

“Here you go!”

Harry was back, proudly proffering a cup of suspiciously blue liquid. He had acquired a glow stick necklace on his travels, and it reminded Anna of a noose.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in: Logo

You are commenting using your account. Log Out /  Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s