Her silhouette creeps behind the curtain as the music slows down. His blinks suddenly stop and his jaw drops an interval. Her calves tense up and she’s on her flight. His hand grips the armrest as her pirouette makes her breasts perk up. She stops and collapses on the floor. Her raised leg exposes her powerful hamstrings and throws a small subtle shadow, hiding the space between her thighs from the audience. As she raises herself up, her silky curves steal spot lights and she throws a glance at him. He sees her blazing desire. She thrusts her hips back and places her hand above her head, playfully twirling her hair. His phone vibrates in his pocket, but he lets it ring on hoping they call a second time. She bows her head and extends her right leg straight up in the air. Her finger tips graze the stage and the base line quickens and lowers an octave. The stage lights all turn off, all but her spot light. The piano caresses the top notes like a glorious tune from an angel. His shoulders and back lose tension. He lays back on his chair and the crease on his forehead smooth’s out. Her intimate movements almost seem private now. Why is the audience still there? Do they feel no shame? She balances on her left toe, and she is now in a spinning frenzy. The music has quickened and the audience finally notices. Her spins are now so intense that time in the theater has stopped. No breath can be felt. No watch tick can be heard. She falls to her knees and begs him to reach over and help her sorrowed guilt. The lights turn off. He closes his eyes and the curtain drops.
