So He Dances

For the next five minutes, I will be sitting here in the Wilk waiting for my bus, eating chocolate covered cinna-bears and watching a beautiful boy practice his dancing in the large, empty ballroom. I ponder as I watch this boy, twirling around, arms extended to hold an imaginary partner. He is very careful, guiding her here and there, keeping time with music that only he can hear.


As I chew on a bear's ear, I wonder what will become of him. Perhaps he will become a professional dancer, sweeping across stages with beautiful young women, their dresses swishing and flowers flying everywhere. Perhaps he'll wear dapper suits as he waltzes and tangos. Perhaps he will win awards, hear camera flashes and applause, go to grand parties and gala events, dazzling all with his technique and finesse.


Or perhaps... Perhaps he will be a different kind of professional. One that is the master of bear hugs and the king of tickle attacks. Perhaps he will sweep a young woman off her feet, spin her around until her hair falls out of its loose ponytail, her apron swirling and the flour flying everywhere. Perhaps he will wear dapper suits, while dozing in his favorite chair on a Sunday afternoon. Perhaps he will go to work in the day, and come home to the sound of little feet pattering across the floor to meet him, kisses and cuddles for a job well done. He goes to recitals and little league. He is their hero, supporting and protecting.


The ballroom is empty now. He has packed his duffle and walked on, humming his tune.


I've missed the bus. I take another cinna-bear and smile. :)