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Sidewalk Story: Everybody Dance

July 23, 2012

They walk along the water every morning. Both of them are tall and willowy, despite being well into their 70’s at least. Age has neither bent nor plumped up either of them. Only their skin and hair are indications of advanced years. And their eyes. His are watery blue and hers a muddy amber, they may appear rheumy but they also shine with years of experiences. They move as one, sometimes holding hands, sometimes apart, with a deliberate and graceful tread. Today, she didn’t see a large pile of goose droppings on the sidewalk. Grey and appropriately foul, it seemed to attract her delicate walking shoe and, as her foot descended like a guided missile toward the pile, I watched from a distance in horror as I imagined the squish and subsequent distress. Without missing a step, he caught up her hand, and swiftly wrapped his other around her waist, and with just a slight lift, executed a perfect pivot turn. I notice that her free hand delicately rested on his shoulder, lightly touching, beautifully poised.  They re-positioned side-by-side, she smiled demurely at him, and they continued their walk, backs straight, heads high, eyes forward. I knew then that they are at home on the competitive ballroom dance floor, decked out in glorious sequins and formal dress, with hair styled into fantastic swirls. And if I listen closely, I can hear the polite applause of the audience and the commentary of Ron Montez and the late oh-so-fabulous Juliet Prowse, as they describe the moves of their Morning Waltz.


From → Not Bus Stories

One Comment
  1. kimberly bobrow jennery permalink

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