::big sigh::
All this time and I still really haven't accomplished much of anything except a lot of laziness. And, well, since I'll be even more distracted pretty soon, I figured I should try to get something out now while there's still time..
Her body moved as if possessed by the music. Those who watched on from all sides had long ago forgotten that the music was actually coming from the speakers and not the woman who moved before them. Her body was slim, and the dim club lighting shone off the sweat that laced her tanned skin. Long auburn hair lay in loose tower curls that were pulled up and clipped behind her head by a black abologne shell barrette. Her raven shirt hung precariously from one shoulder and tapered off just under the bust until it came to a tip behind her that just reached the waistline of the skirt. The skirt was a deep burgandy and clung low on her hips. The left came only a few inches down from the waistline on the side of her hip, then swooped down to her right knee. Her high heels were black with a dramatic angle that caused most of the women watching to cringe inside. The laces of the shoes ran all the way up her calves, made of a silky, transparent black material. Her face, though not always the focus of most watching, had an intense look upon it. The beauty of her features were breathtaking even to the women, and her eyes seemed to draw in anyone who looked into them.
She had no partner, quite alone in the middle of the club's floor, kept company only by the music that pumped through her very veins it seemed. And while it was quite obvious she had no partner, with the way she danced it seemed very much as though she did. She was sharing it with someone. Perhaps with all of them, some dared to ponder. The dance was almost gypsy-like, similar to nothing the pour souls there had ever seen, even among ballroom and latin dancing.
She was ever graceful, and yet powerful, as everyone who watched found themselves intimidated by the dance. It was seductive, even the women finding themselves rather 'out of breath' in watching her. And still none dared to approach, to join her in the dance, or to even go on dancing beside her. They could do nothing but watch.
Finally, the music halted, and silence appropriately followed. Even the d.j. was dumbfounded by the mysterious, namesless dancer. She stopped with the end of the music, standing still as she caught her breath and let her heart calm itself. Before anyone could drum up the nerve to approach her, she turned and left the floor, the people parting so she could walk without hassle, everyone left to wonder. And they would keep on wondering. She collected her things from her table, and left the club. She never returned, though the people who witnessed her dance came back every night for nearly a year in hopes of seeing her again. But they never did.
Her body moved as if possessed by the music. Those who watched on from all sides had long ago forgotten that the music was actually coming from the speakers and not the woman who moved before them. Her body was slim, and the dim club lighting shone off the sweat that laced her tanned skin. Long auburn hair lay in loose tower curls that were pulled up and clipped behind her head by a black abologne shell barrette. Her raven shirt hung precariously from one shoulder and tapered off just under the bust until it came to a tip behind her that just reached the waistline of the skirt. The skirt was a deep burgandy and clung low on her hips. The left came only a few inches down from the waistline on the side of her hip, then swooped down to her right knee. Her high heels were black with a dramatic angle that caused most of the women watching to cringe inside. The laces of the shoes ran all the way up her calves, made of a silky, transparent black material. Her face, though not always the focus of most watching, had an intense look upon it. The beauty of her features were breathtaking even to the women, and her eyes seemed to draw in anyone who looked into them.
She had no partner, quite alone in the middle of the club's floor, kept company only by the music that pumped through her very veins it seemed. And while it was quite obvious she had no partner, with the way she danced it seemed very much as though she did. She was sharing it with someone. Perhaps with all of them, some dared to ponder. The dance was almost gypsy-like, similar to nothing the pour souls there had ever seen, even among ballroom and latin dancing.
She was ever graceful, and yet powerful, as everyone who watched found themselves intimidated by the dance. It was seductive, even the women finding themselves rather 'out of breath' in watching her. And still none dared to approach, to join her in the dance, or to even go on dancing beside her. They could do nothing but watch.
Finally, the music halted, and silence appropriately followed. Even the d.j. was dumbfounded by the mysterious, namesless dancer. She stopped with the end of the music, standing still as she caught her breath and let her heart calm itself. Before anyone could drum up the nerve to approach her, she turned and left the floor, the people parting so she could walk without hassle, everyone left to wonder. And they would keep on wondering. She collected her things from her table, and left the club. She never returned, though the people who witnessed her dance came back every night for nearly a year in hopes of seeing her again. But they never did.
posted by The Author at 21:59
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