A slow dance.
A SLOW DANCE.
- to dance (v) defined as "to move in a rhythm, typically following a sequence of steps."
A bright summer's day. The sun shone and the birds chirped along to the whistling of the wind and yet something didn't feel right. It did, actually, but I was unsure. I mean if she wanted it too wouldn't she have at least fluttered her beautiful glossy wings or given me some sign by twitching her antennas or something? She just talked... I kept looking at her in wonder, my face beaming at the sight of this beautiful butterfly. This one was different. I knew. She moved more gracefully than any other butterfly in the land. Poetry in motion, they said. Somehow, she had failed to grasp that I wasn't paying attention to a word that she was saying. My sensory organs had involuntarily prioritised themselves. My sense of sight had surpassed my sense of hearing... In scientific terms, the ears had been made numb by the eyes.
- to dance (v) defined as "to move in a rhythm, typically following a sequence of steps."
A bright summer's day. The sun shone and the birds chirped along to the whistling of the wind and yet something didn't feel right. It did, actually, but I was unsure. I mean if she wanted it too wouldn't she have at least fluttered her beautiful glossy wings or given me some sign by twitching her antennas or something? She just talked... I kept looking at her in wonder, my face beaming at the sight of this beautiful butterfly. This one was different. I knew. She moved more gracefully than any other butterfly in the land. Poetry in motion, they said. Somehow, she had failed to grasp that I wasn't paying attention to a word that she was saying. My sensory organs had involuntarily prioritised themselves. My sense of sight had surpassed my sense of hearing... In scientific terms, the ears had been made numb by the eyes.
As I snapped out of my trance, she was looking at me with a stern yet puzzled expression due to the huge grin on my proboscis. Ah! How I wish she could have understood what I was thinking at that point. Instead, she decided to ask me the reason behind my amusement and I wavered her request, awkwardly, to say the least. She continued to talk and I continued to gaze, in awe. I had now decided to make my move and as stealthily as possible glided a little towards her direction. I know or rather think that this butterfly of my dreams caught this 'slight' movement but for some reason was fine with it. This was the instance to ensure that I got myself into the conversation a bit more. At one sudden second in the conversation, she paused... just looked at me and smiled. I guess she had found her assurance while I was trying to regain mine... and suddenly, in a single movement, she sighed and let her silky wing swoon and drop so(!) close to me. Really close.
It was impossible to be patient anymore, it was too tempting to resist. Beautiful black eyes contrasted by the coat of colours on her body. Her wings were a painting made by God himself. Intricately created with a finishing touch of love. I nervously started moving my own wing towards hers. Slowly yet surely it reached a point where there was minimal contact. She flinched at my touch but was re-assured within the fraction of a second. Gradually, the ‘minimal contact’ transformed itself into a proper touch. At this point, I confidently placed my wing upon hers. It was the first time that I had ever held the wing of another butterfly. As our wings gently lifted, my proboscis like a magnet leaned in and gave her a little peck on her antenna. She chuckled and was actually blushing!
I noticed her wing still in mine and unsure of what to say... my idiot brain blurted out,“Shall we dance?” Perceiving my slight blooper she calmly looked into my eyes and said, " We just did, didn't we?"
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