The dance.

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One upon a time there was a man named Jim. Jim worked downtown in a tall shiny building. Everyday he rode the train to work. He loved to ride the train.

What he liked most about the ride were the people that he watched. Everyday he watched the blurred faces become crisp and then blur again. He rarely ever saw their eyes, only the brim of their noses and the forward tilted brows looking down at their handhelds. He liked to imagine who they might be, where they might be headed.

One day while Jim sat in his usual seat and looked through his usual window he saw an enchantress. Really she was an ordinary girl. But in his eyes she was pure magic. She stood beneath the pillar that holds the stations name. She wore a wooly sweater, light denim jeans, and gold shoes. She was not like the others, no phone or tablet in hand. In its place she held a little round bowl filled with water. He saw her and she saw him. He watched her board and she watched him watch. She sat in the seat across from Jim, their knees almost touched.

"The bowl," he began " what wonders does it hold?"

"Only those who know can see it. Would you like to try?"

"I would be a fool not to"

She smiled a smile that bestows only those who have heard of marvelous news. Her hands moved to the outside edges of the open sphere, delicately she raised the glass for Jim to see. He moved in closely, tilted his head, straining his eyes to see.

"It's empty." He stated, solemn and disappointed.

"Wait." She pressed, smile cemented across her face.

He peered in to the tiny transparent emptiness. Leaning closer until her face was distorted through the glass on the other side. He felt the urge to give up and pull away, but it was then he saw it, a flicker of light. It slowly multiplied, one to two, two to four, exponentially it grew. Until the bowl was immersed entirely in shining glimmers. The flecks began to dance in pairs, swirling and diving, like tiny lovers in a ballet of war. Turning, shifting, coming together to form one mass.

"Do you know why the wind finds peace in hollowed caverns at the mountains peak?" She speaks as the glimmering shape takes an undistinguished form at the base of the bowl.

"They've stopped." He whispered

"It's there the wind can break from gales, and whisper to forgotten lakes." Her words echoed through the glass, shaking the mound of light settled at the base. He blinks.

He stood at the gilded entrance of his office building. A flurry of bodies buzzed around him. She was gone. He pondered if she was ever there. A dream, a hope, a wonder. He must have dreamed her. Dreams are the only place she could exist.

He glanced at his watch, the seconds ticked away, deafening among the hum of people talking, but not communicating, hearing but not listening, laughing but not feeling. The ping of devices dwelled in to his brain, the streets spun around him, he fell to his knees, hands clasping ears, he let out a scream.

No one stopped, no one looked up from their screens. Surrounded but alone. Again he stands on his feet. Observing on one side and then the other the voids that walk among him. He took a deep breath before the march onward, pushed through the doors, and released as the world melted around him in a tsunami of golden glimmers.

Created: Jun 14, 2017

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