It's Their Time To Dance
By Natalie Marie Stefani Rice
It's hard to believe we are the same couple, she thought, as she looked at herself in the mirror.
Time has been kind to him, he has aged well.
"Not so good to me," she said asshe traced the lines around her eyes with her finger.
From the window she watched him in the yard, moving tree branches from the last storm.
He hasn't complained about his back lately.
Or has he and she just didn't hear it?
He still has his firm muscles and strong legs.
He was quite the catch when they first met.
Sandy blond hair, penetrating deep blue eyes, and that smile.
It all seems so long ago.
Too many moons between them, she has said more than once, thinking about their age.
He's always been so comforting.
He always seems so happy.
But he must be exhausted.
She watched him in awe.
He felt her eyes upon him and he turned to smile and wave to her in the window.
Embarrassed, she waved back.
Feeling a bit overwhelmed, she pulled herself away from the window and contemplated joining him in the yard.
She looked down at her legs that once danced for her, that once ran for her, that once walked so gracefully.
She muttered curse under her breath.
Silently, she wondered how long it has been.
"Too long," she sighed
It's been years since she's walked on her own.
How long has it been since she's danced?
We are connected through memories.
Connected through feelings.
Connected through thoughts, and through our obligations.
"We used to finish each others sentences," she said out loud.
The room was quiet.
The sun began to set
She looked out the window and noticed he was finished.
Longing for him, but trying not to bother him, she patiently waited.
She heard the music before she felt his touch.
With one sweep of his arms he scooped her up from her chair and held her in his arms.
They swirled and danced and laughed.
He held her gently, but so close they were like one.
She closed her eyes and time stood still.
And time waited for them and their dance.
It was their time to dance.