Theme Thursday.....VIEW

Where is the dance?

The dance floor was polished, but what could be done with a floor that was over eighty years old.
It had a sheen that reminded one of old leather carefully rubbed with oil, so as to make it feel warm not cold.
The scuff marks and scratches stood out, testaments to the dances that had occurred for all these years.
The dancers had moved to the music, their shoes, shuffling, scraping, keeping beat to the music one hears.

The floor had watched dancers come and go over time, some came only once, others spent years of dancing on his boards.
Sometimes he had felt the first stirrings of love between couples, he knew what it was heading towards.
Some stayed together and then they would dance on him less and less.
Over time they would stop by to bring their little ones for lessons, he enjoyed them, he had to confess.




Young girls who started out so shy, afraid to let go of their mother's hand.
They would learn to dance after many weeks of listening to the music from the band.
Their bodies swaying and sashaying all across his floors, from one side to the other side of the room.
He would hope that their love of dance would grow for it was through them that his future did loom.

He enjoyed the many days the boys and girls got their lessons and how he saw their abilities grow.
After months of being used by all of their feet, he got to feel them on the nights they would put on a show.
Parents who had walked and danced all over him once upon a time,
Were now clapping, clicking cameras of their youngsters, and telling others that one is mine.

The weekends had continued to be the time for couples to dance the night away.
For many years he had enjoyed the feel of their feet, gliding and flowing, it felt good he had to say.
Then he noticed that there were not as many little girls and boys coming for the lessons being taught.
The evening had fewer couples showing up even on the weekend, he saw the look of worry on the owners face he now caught.

That last year almost no one showed up to move across and dance around his floor any more.
He wondered where is the dance, where do they go to dance, he wanted to shout and roar?
But there was no sound that his boards could make without the feet moving and walking.
On the day they closed after eighty years of laughter and joy, he wanted to weep, cause he knew that was the end of his talking.

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