Dancing in the Dark

All over the city the lights went out. People emerged from homes confused and on edge. Was this an attack? Sobs filled the air. No microwave popcorn. No Netflicks. No juice blenders. No CNN.
At some point humming occurred. Others joined in. Couples began dancing in pitch dark. Even kids whirled awkwardly. Longtime couples who hadn't danced in years swayed gently. This was magic.
Dawn came. People were tired, but happy. Slowly, they returned home. No one went to work. They climbed into bed. Streets were quiet. It all seemed like a dream.
The power eventually returned, along with depressing news reports, argumentative TV panel discussions, and endless foot fungus commercials.
I had danced with Alonzo, who owned a pizza parlor. Who knew he had such hidden grace?

Dancing in the Dark

So often I feel like I'm dancing in the dark. Where is my life going? I'm doing a tango without a partner, tap dancing around committments, waltzing into trouble. I need a metaphorical flashlight to guide me as I tunnel through my golden years.
I sit alone in a cafe sipping coffee and reading a book. I watch people strolling past in the heat. A short, old Latino man sits two seats away and drums loudly on the counter with his chubby fingers. maybe he is trying to get my attention. I do not speak Spanish.
A woman sits between us. He stops drumming and utters one word--Bella. She thanks him and we sit quietly. Their little dance has ended.
I am dancing with words. Later I will meet friends for lunch and dance with bread and salad.
What does it all add up to? Will I always be stumbling in the dark, pretending to understand the moves? We should have a floor diagram showing all the correct places our feet should be. Meanwhile, I will suck in my stomach, straighten my posture and assume the position--whatever that position is.
Finger drumming may well hold the key.

Dancing in the Moonlight

Alice led Ralph up three flights of stairs to the roof.
"Honey, you know I can't dance."
"Oh, be quiet. You never take me anywhere anymore. We haven't gone dancing in ages."
Alice loosened his tie, removed his cap, and took off his jacket. Ralph was flushed and sweating, out of shape.
"Pretend Perry Como is singing "Temptation." She put his arm around her waist and led him across the roof, silhouetted by light and shadow. Ralph let her put her head on his shoulder. Life in a tiny Brooklyn apartment did not lend itself to many magic moments, but this was one of them.
Until the trap door opened and two figures climbed out.
"Ralphie boy! Seems like we all had the same idea. Plenty of room up here. Me and Trixie need to work on some moves."
Ralph grimaced. "Norton! Get out of here!"
Norton shrugged. "You don't own this roof. If you can dance up here, so can we. Let's shake it, Trixie."
They launched into a wild cha cha.
Ralph and Alice sighed and continued slow dancing, but some of the magic was gone.