Take My Hand

You told me life is like music. Unpredictable. I nodded half knowingly, listening to jazz on the player. I liked the way you moved, the swift dance you did, stepping into the tempo of music. Laughter.

The night was young with a fresh smell of rain washed streets. Ambiance, dimmed lights cast shadows on two glasses of wine. One almost empty, scarlet liquid stained the cream tablecloth. The seat where you left was still warm on leather.

I hugged myself, my lips on my knees. The flowing air kissed my bare shoulders.

You danced your way, immersed in music. I peered as you glided yourself across the room, cannot help but to smile.

You noticed my smile. I had to pretend to look away as you drew distance to me. I failed to hide my smile anyway. You blew in my ear and took a short bow. I looked up as you posed, arched back, one hand on your chest, another extended towards me.

"Take my hand." you smiled.