When I saw him I was dancing. It was a house warming party. The type where people invite people and before you know it the house is heaving with strangers and talk and booze and chemicals. Maybe I was heaving too, but I don’t remember. All I remember is seeing him dancing under the tree by himself. If I let my arm float out his followed. If I spun, faux ballerina, his body twisted into a pirouette.
He seemed about the same age as me. Eighteen, maybe younger. Gosh that seems like such a long time ago. It was dark, so I couldn’t be sure, but his hair seemed long, blond and curling, just slightly, at the ends. His eyes were holes. Dark empty things where the light was sucked in instead of being reflected. Despite that I danced with him for about twenty minutes. (Okay maybe there was something more than water in my system) People came and went, but I just danced with my shadowman.
Next morning I asked if anyone else had seen him. The stares when I described his eyes said it all. I’d lost my mind or I’d seen something the mind doesn’t usually permit. I laughed it off until I was weeding the garden for beer bottles. Our neighbor: an odd women, old and young at the same time told me about a young man had died in a car crash while living at our house. My blood ran cold. “Did he have blond hair?”
“I don’t know. His mother did though. Poor thing.”
I hid under my blankets that night but the next I went out into the garden. “I’m sorry. You’re welcome here any time,” I said to the night.
There was no reply, but I felt like dancing.
About the Author: Michele de Winton loves sunshine, chardonnay, (preferably together), beaches, trees, great vegetarian food, steamy writing and happy endings. She’s been known to be an all round arty type and it's no wonder that her first romance The Boss and Her Billionaire had a little sparkle of the stage tucked into its pages. Being a writer was not was she was supposed to be when she ‘grew up' but then neither was being a dancer. Her poor parents. They thought that when she toddled off to law school they'd bred a responsible, useful adult and instead they got a performer and word junkie. Sometimes her performing past jumps into the dress up box and requires attention. But most of the time she’s content to stay in her PJs. All day.
You can find Michele de Winton at http://micheledewinton.com
She also blogs at The Naked Hero as The Luna goddess: www.thenakedhero.com