Dance Dance Dance

A jump, a skip, a smile, a laugh, twirl, turn, chop, peal- the morning was an activity swirl.there was insistent music in the background and she kept nodding her head, keeping the beat with an almost grim determination- the prescription said she had to keep busy to keep herself happy and she was studiously doing just that, dancing on the edge of that spiral into black bleakness that descended with no reason, no hint, plunging her into a vortex, sent her stumbling hesitantly through days, weeks, even months before she found her feet. No, that shouldn’t happen again even if she had to hop, skip and jump every minute of her life.

p.s: the title is borrowed all-too-shamelessly from Haruki Murakami’s book; hope he doesn’t mind πŸ˜‰

About rashmenon

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3 Responses to Dance Dance Dance

  1. dewdrop says:

    Dance, dance, dance we should; until we find our feet and beyond.

    Oh yeah, Murakami wouldn’t mind lending the title to this beautiful prose.

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