Evening Dance

The dancers frolicked with unprecedented glee under the glow of white flood lamps. A girl flitted expertly in between her suitors, having a yaw with one and then another while the rest groped the air, eager for their turn with the spitfire who mystified them. Some grabbed for her hair, and others plucked at her skirts as she danced. Aghast were those who watched the spectacle, for the dead did not dance, they hungered. Their nails raked her skin and teeth threatened to bite, but the little dancer slipped away each time, humming a song in tune with the steps.