She looked uncomfortable. The pillows stacked under her head and not her body put her at an odd angle but she was high enough to see her television.
Her family gathered around her bed watching an old black and white movie featuring her when she was a young dancer during the Harlem Renaissance. At age 96, this was the first time she had seen herself perform.
On the screen she moved with a fluid grace. All long legs and lithe body, her feet tapped out a jazzy beat. A smile creased her face and her hands fluttered to the same rhythm.
Thin spiral notebook 
Really beautiful! I love a story so well told I can see and feel what the character is feeling.
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Thanks, Deb.
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Beautiful writing. The scene floats
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He was truly the most beautiful man I’d ever seen. I gazed helplessly, enchanted. Somehow he noticed me. Eyes locked. Entranced, I never felt so strange in all my life. Somehow I sat down. Then he was there, asking me to dance. I drifted into his arms, like I had no past, present or future. I just… was.
We danced all night. Walked home in the wee, small hours, under a midnight sky and a million stars. We kissed, kissed again, ‘one more, until tomorrow’. We couldn’t part. And so a very tempestuous and unforgettable period of my life began
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Oh, Juneanne, this was lovely. I have butterflies and can’t stop smiling.
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thank you Tara, inspire b yours! Happy writing 🙂
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Thank you! I hope you come back again.
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This is so thrilling and romantic
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thank you very much Ruby. It was part of a much longer story I never finished but I do love the mystery of 50 words, when things hang. so thank you 🙂
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Well-written! 🙂
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Thank you!
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