The Dance

        The vehicle plunged into the wall of white in front of it. For a moment everything else around the car disappeared and the two inside were totally alone in the world, wrapped in a cocoon of fog. Past red spires, past brave runners, and camera-holding tourists. They emerged from the cascade of fog, a silver blip among all those traveling southward. Up the twists and turns, the ocean a steady presence out their window. And then home. Or what had become an ancient home to them amidst the aged canvas, polished stones, and fabled pieces.
        The car came to a halt at the crest of the hill. The man turned to the woman as she pushed the car into park.

“You ready?”
“Just a moment.”
“Ok, yeah. No worries.”



“Do you want to walk first?”
“Uh, sure. That sounds lovely.”
“Ok, let’s do that.”

The couple pushed their doors open simultaneously and met each other wordlessly, hands clasping together. The woman led them up the hillside, past trees and stones, out to where the ocean’s breadth expanded before them. She stopped at the cliff’s edge, wind wrapping around her, attempting to tug her hair from the handkerchief that held it steady.

“Everything good?”
“Yeah. I needed to just be for a moment.”
“Yeah, for sure. We can just be. I’m happy to just hold your hand and look at the waves.”
“Ok. Thanks.”



“Actually. . . Do you want to dance with me here for a moment?”
“Yes. Yes, I would. I’d like that very much.”