sjsprWriting

They danced excitedly.

Joyously.

Always lively.

There wasn’t a time when they did not smile.

They’d dance to jazz, to rock, to rhythm and blues. And they were perfectly content with just that.

But then they stopped dancing.

There were no longer any smiles on their faces.

And, if for some reason they found themselves swaying to music, they only seemed worried. Worried that their passion for music had grown. Grown and grown and grown until it turned to something else. A passion neither of them knew how to control, how to portray, how to end.

So, instead, they wrote to one another.

They wrote about their love.

They wrote about their secret.

And they did this so that their music and their dancing and their joy could remain a memory for now whenever they touched they felt the world could sense their adoring madness.