The following was submitted for a class.
Click. PzzRrzrKkZrrzzrr.
They closed their eyes.
The harp sang gently, notes flitting through the air like delicate flower petals, carried by a divine humming which burrowed into Yvan’s mind. The ballroom was bordering on ostentatious, the pillars and arches gilded with gold, the blaze of the hearth throwing dissonant light onto it the reflective surfaces, making the whole room breathe with the flame.
One. Two. Three. One. Two Three. Yvan counted the steps in their head. Taking one forward, and Zel took a step back. They held each other’s hand, waist, shoulder; gently ebbing and flowing, like a groggy river who’d just woken up. The fiery, golden ballroom heaved around them, fellow dancers stepping to the melody. Everyone in the ball wore bright colours, reds and blues, greens, and yellows. Zel herself wore green, and Yvan wore blue.
Bum. Bum. Bum. Bum. Bum.
Pzzkrrzk.
The violin thrummed and called out in a shrill, discordant melody, flanked by gentle strings, sending notes swimming through the open air. The violin swelled, writing her name with a pompous signature as the musician played the instrument with a burning passion, quickly sliding the bow on the steel strings, beads of sweat dripping down their face.
Yvan danced faster, and so did Zel. They held each other close, stepping to their left, and then behind, pushing each other apart, and leaping to the right. They let their bodies sway, controlled by the current of the music, before pressing them together again; feeling each other’s heartbeat press against their own, noticing the reflective glow of the fire on each other’s sweat-glazed foreheads.
Intoxicated on the music, Yvan swivelled on their heels, bringing Zel with them in an unnatural twist. She tripped on her foot, nearly falling before Yvan caught her and swooped her back up in an awkward motion, Sorry! they mouthed. Zel rolled her eyes, stepping aggressively on their toe. Yvan winced but smiled through it.
pZZk–
One. Two. Three. One. Two. Three.
The song slowed, they slowed with it. Gentler steps now, then Zel took the lead. She placed her hands on Yvan’s waist, pulling them along with her, taking them into a waltz. She stepped lightly left, then right, then back, then she let go, she spun backwards, and looked up at Yvan, her eyes calling them closer, and they obliged, walking up to her, and gently taking her outstretched hand. Zel spun them, Yvan’s deep blue tailcoat fanning out, their feet twisting around each other, barely keeping up with the twirl. Zel pulled them back in by their waist, holding them against her, Yvan gazed into Zel’s eyes, she was enjoying herself, and so were they.
The song began to climb.
The rest of the ball faded into a blur, as if they’d just entered a painting, and the pigment spread and splayed with each step, staining the canvas into an abstraction of what was once the ballroom. Every motion of their bodies, a different stroke of the brush. Yvan took a step forward, and Zel swirled away, extending one leg in front, and bending the other, circling Yvan in a hypnotising display. They spun and grabbed her arm, twirling her upright, placing their hand on her waist, and taking two steps to the left, then forward. The rest of the world no longer existed and neither of them could be sure it ever had.
The music hit its crescendo.
Trumpets blared, the violin screamed, the horns cried. They pushed apart, holding onto each other with one arm, the other outstretched behind them. They whirled and threw each other into independent spins, their attire splaying out. The world smeared into a psychedelic whirlwind; their eyes glowed with the colours. The very floor seemed to come apart, the marble rippling with each step, like a droplet falling into still water. They pirouetted, landing lithely on their feet, dipping down, and arching their back, sweeping a leg one way, and sweeping it back the other. They spun and spun and spun till they were dizzy, till their feet could no longer do what they commanded it to.
CRACK.
Zel twisted her ankle, a scream clawed its way out her throat and she collapsed, falling to the floor, the whirlwind of colours stopping with a sudden jolt, its kaleidoscopic patterns unnervingly still. The music continued softly, muffled as if from another room.
PZZCZRkkrZCrrZkkRrrzzRRz.
They opened their eyes. Throat painfully dry, their tongue cracked like the desert floor. Yvan groaned, wearily moving unfocused eyes around the room, it was dreary inside, dust wafted in the air, a thin coating on the every surface; one large window overlooking an alley between two smaller buildings, both of which had been abandoned for some time. The ballroom was gone, the colours were gone, Zel was gone; the only sound aside from Yvan’s breathing was the soft buzzing of electricity in the walls and static from the radio.
PzzCrZk— Click.
They turned it off. Their feet were sore, and their t-shirt clung to their skin, sopping with sweat. They took a step, knees weak under them, old floorboards creaking beneath their weight, another step and their knees buckled, Yvan fell, almost slamming their head into the dresser if they didn’t catch themselves on the wall.
“Auuarrgh…” they groaned, meekly moving a shaky hand to the drawer handle, the metal cold to the touch. Yvan pulled it open and grabbed a burgundy velvet bag from inside. They let themselves fall to the floor, sliding their back down the wall. Yvan unzipped the container, reaching inside, rifling through the wads of mildly bloodied paper towels, grabbing one and setting it aside. They opened more compartments, and pulled out a rusty quarter, a frayed rope, and a syringe with some blueish-green liquid inside.
They placed the quarter at the fold of their elbow, tying the rope around it tightly, holding it in their yellowed teeth. They grabbed the syringe, wiping a bit of dried blood away from the needle with the paper towel. They took deep breath and placed it against their skin. And they pushed.
They winced as syringe entered their body, and they pressed it in; a cool warmth ran through their arm like a River flooding into and over them, pushing them down into its bed and holding them safe.
They crawled over to the radio and changed the station.
Click. PzzRrzrKkZrrzzrr.
They closed their eyes.
Saye Kamal 