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Dancing #32

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Concern flashed over his face when he spotted my look; but the next instant he was gone, lost in the crowd of dancers, hidden by the smoke, almost - could it be possible? - made invisible by the thick weave of the music itself as it thrummed and reeled through the smoky room.
I shiver even now to recount what I saw.
His back towards me. Her arms entwining him.
But her hands! Her long fingers, slim and white, hideously altered. And in their place, wasted appendages, skinless and fleshless, nothing but pale sinew and dull bone clutching tightly to his shirt!

4 comments add one below

  • avatar

    Christopher 6 months ago

    Oh snap! That ain't good!

  • avatar

    Neville Hunt 6 months ago

    Oo-err! Sounds like a really bad case of anorexia.

  • avatar

    Drew Martyn 6 months ago

    and I told her to use more moisturiser on her hands...

  • avatar

    Neville Hunt 6 months ago

    Haha! 😆

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