This week’s writing prompt from ISmithWords is Dance. While it is supposed to be 400 words or less, I am hoping to get closer to the 400 mark than my previous prompt responses have been. Too much life in my head to get it out, I suppose.
It had been a long day, not that long days weren’t unusual, but it was the long kind of day that had just kept pounding one disappointment on top of another.
I stepped out the front door into a humid summer night. Rain was coming. It was always coming. This was a place of mermaids and naiads, tree sprites and mud puppies. It had always been home, even when I had nowhere to call my own, the air and water here had always called to me during my travels. It was my restoring gravity.
I walked through the heavy night to my vehicle and left to clear my head. I didn’t have a particular direction in mind, much less a destination, but I ended up down by the capital. The architecture was beautiful, to be sure, standing lit behind the lake. The lights reflected off of the water like the fireflies I once caught as a child.
I stopped and headed down towards the water, fully intending to find myself one of those wrought iron benches and just watch the lights upon the ripples… but the rain had come faster than I’d expected.
I laughed. A sad, resigned, slightly hysteric laugh before the rain turned to a down pour and washed the day away from my upturned face, the tears hidden behind the nature. Then the music came, as it always did, with the rain. The percussion and gliding upon a myriad of unassuming instruments so often overlooked as ordinary merely because they were common.
I had endured many types of dance lessons long ago, they are some of my first memories, and the body remembers the things it loves even if youthful refusal fought not to. And my body loves to dance.
Out around midnight, amid the rain, I tiptoed and twirled in a soggy shirt and jeans to a song the universe was playing for me alone.