Welcome to day 3 of 30 Days of Writing, a creative writing challenge for the certifiably insane. To my credit, I did warn people. Today’s prompt is “They played my song“. Enjoy, and don’t forget to link up at the end of this post if you’ve participated in today’s challenge despite your overwhelming desire to kill me.
Would You Like To Dance?
“But they’re playing my song,” she said, hating the whiny pitch to her voice. “Just one dance.”
They hadn’t been dating for very long, and as she watched him sitting unmoved by her pleas, she began to think they wouldn’t be dating for much longer. That thought saddened her. She really liked him. So much so, she had invited him to join her for an evening at the dance hall with her friends.
But what was she supposed to do? They’d been sitting at the table since they arrived, nearly an hour ago. He’d only gotten up to get them drinks and hadn’t budged since. It wasn’t so bad at first. She introduced him to everyone and of course the guys all started talking guy talk which gave the girls the chance to crowd around her and pass judgement.
“He’s cuuuuute!” Katie whispered.
“Hmm, a real dish,” agreed Erika.
But the conversations quickly ended as one couple after another got up to dance. Until they were the only ones left at the table. She had shyly asked him if he wanted to dance. He shook his head no and asked her if she wanted another drink.
And half an hour later, he was still saying no. And she was frustrated. Why on earth would he come to a dance hall if he didn’t want to dance with her? Finally Katie and Ron came back to the table.
“These new shoes are killing me,” Katie complained. “Ronny, why don’t you dance with Monika and let me rest my poor toes?”
“What do you say, Mon? Shall we?”
So she danced with Ron to a couple of songs and then a couple more when Katie waved at them to continue, rubbing her swollen feet with her free hand. Then Erika’s husband, Peter, asked her to dance. Then Maria’s boyfriend. After nearly an hour of being the relief dancer for her friends’ boyfriends and husbands, she finally made her way back to the table, back to her date.
He didn’t look happy.
She sat down beside him and made a feeble attempt at conversation, his noncommittal responses making it extremely difficult. Finally, looking down at her hands twisting nervously in her lap so he wouldn’t see the tears in her eyes, she asked him if he wanted to leave.
Silence. He wasn’t answering her. Her hands continued their spastic dance in her lap while her heart slowly broke apart. Then his warm, calloused hand reached over and stilled hers. She looked up at him. He smiled at her.
“Would you like to dance?”
Now don’t forget to check out the other participants!