DANCING WITH THE WIND BY CRYSTALLITE

Sweating profusely, she’s twisting and turning, trapped in a dance, old as time. There’s no music playing, but she’s roused from sleep and swaying away from her bed, she follows the music, dancing so sensuously, the sight of her holds you captive.

Dana rips the curtain blinds apart, wrenching the doors from their hinges, a bird poised for flight, as though possessed by unearthly flame. She takes flight, taking two steps at a time, she runs, long scarlet robe wrapped around her slender form billowing in the wind.

She runs her gaze so intense, so fixated, her goal and destination clear. Feet bruised by harsh stony earth, with the stones cutting into tender feet, but she couldn’t care less.

Her hair a vision of long dark waves is blowing across her face, she suddenly stops and peers at the dusky sky, shielding her face with her long palm, from the burnished brilliance of the lightning.

Dana wraps her arms around her middle, turning in a small circle as the wind picks up and the rain starts to fall.

She stands there, long endless limbs, in an endless field body soaked and chilled to the bone. Unable to outrun the storm, she dances to the rhythm of the storm, the warmth from sheer delight warming her frozen form to oblivious freedom, and her glee touches the heart of heaven.

The storm opens it’s jaws and daggers drawn, suddenly earth and sky seem to be clamoring for each others touch, and caught in the middle she decides to take flight back to where she’s come from, for now the comfort of her bed beckons and the excitement has turned to fear. Trembling like a little waif she turns back for home, dashing into a house on her left, but the atmosphere feels alien, and unfamiliar to her senses and as she starts to take stock, even to her eyes. Dana slows down so she can take in her surroundings.

Overcoming her surprise, Dana lets her adventurous spirit take over and she starts to explore the unfamiliar house, each room holding its own attractions, the decor so beautiful, unearthly shades of gold and startling white silks, so soft to the touch, statues of angels, the living room a pleasant surprise with water falls encased in glass with reflections bouncing off walls, the muted light seemingly playing hide and seek on her senses, her heart fluttering a beautiful echo, and the music that she heard in her sleep can be heard from far away.

Excited to discover the origin of the angelic sound, she quickens her steps, gay as a child on Christmas morn, only to find herself in a room full of mirrors, with reflections of her bouncing off the walls, and in here the light is so bright she can barely see beyond her reflections. When her heart rate slows down, she can hear the music, slightly louder than before, and closing her eyes, she lets her body take in the sheer heavenly brilliance around her, and when she opens her eyes, there are reflection of him everywhere, and there he is, dressed in white, his chest bare, dressed in long white trousers, and bare feet, his head thrust to the sky, he plays the most beautiful melody  a thousand years, and he’s seems one with the beautiful music he plays, larger than life, like the god of her dreams and right there she falls in love. ‘Oh God am I dreaming?’ she’s so enthralled she cannot move. There are reflections of him everywhere, and she cannot get enough of the sight of him, right there, oblivious to all but the violin he holds so tenderly, caressing it to perfection, the sound like a dagger to her innermost self. Unable to turn away, she watches him, drinking him all in, letting the image get branded on her mind something to treasure, always beyond any dreams.

When he lifts those eyes and fixes them on her disheveled self, Dana feels stripped, because he seems to see right through her, and she stares back, captured by the most soulful eyes, like black pearls set against white velvet, and for a moment the speak across miles, needing no words, and suddenly, it is to uncomfortable and she breaks the eye contact but not before seeing his all knowing smile, which instantly gets her back up.

She runs back the way she came, but there are pictures of him everywhere, and she cannot escape him, even the rooms she’s been to seem to be crowded by reflections of him, and instead of being pleased, the situation starts to frustrate her. Dana cannot find her way out of the house, her feet have started to ache and the cold has began to seep into her bones. His face is before her, sculpted with love to perfection for her eyes to feast on, for her hands to touch and for her heart to fall in love with every dawn. She closes her eyes and screams ‘ Get out of my dreams, get out of my head.’ But even with eyes closed, she cannot get rid of the image.

Her emotions, his presence are all playing havoc with her concentration and she’s starting to get really pissed off. ‘Where’s the door anyway? Why can’t I find my way out of here?’

‘I can help you find your way out of here, let me help’ hand outstretched, he beckons her and instead she’s thinking ‘That’s the stuff dreams are made of.’ H e seems to weave a spell over her without even trying.

Dana stares at him, and she finally recognizes him for what he is, a threat to all she stands for, and as past, and present merge, and she thinks of every other male she’s encountered, it is finally clear that she needs to run and run as far and as fast as she can. Falling this hard for a fantasy ought to be forbidden. She’s frustrated, and yet she cannot run far enough.

Wrapping her ruined robe around her chilled form, in her mind she wills her mind to reject him, all he inspires and to simply erase him. Dana’s sixth sense is on alert she knows she cannot escape him but she’s willing to lie to herself for as long as it takes.

‘Actually I – I was – uh – just – uh -yes- uh looking for my way out of here. So if – if – you can just point me in the right direction – I think I can manage.’ God what happened to my tongue now, she’s mentally cursing. Ignoring his outstretched hand and walking on, hoping that if she doesn’t place much importance on his presence, he will fade away.

The stranger chuckles, ‘Nervous’ isn’t it obvious, she responds mentally praying that he disappears, but as twists of fate go, he remains, haunting her with his almost too painful presence.

Outwardly save for when she attempted to speak , one cannot tell she’s the least bit affected.

He laughs to himself saying ‘One day you will dance with me.’ And it’s more of a confirmation than a request.