His posture changed, his knees softened, and his chest lifted. He lifted his elbows and then his hands to shoulder level. One sandaled foot slid out, and he spun. He executed a perfect pirouette. His arms extended, and he leaped, doing the splits mid-air. He took small running steps and then he leaped again, this time gaining air, and spinning at least twice. He landed in what looked like a lunge, leg extended behind him, knee bent, arms and focus reaching out.
Glori made an undignified “ungph” sound as he landed. She knew he could dance, but not like that. She had never seen anything so amazing. She was taken in by his display of grace, poise, and strength. And that extended toe point. And he did it all in hiking sandals and shorts.
Blaze, eyes bright with exertion, hair wild from the spinning, caught sight of her by the door and smiled. He looked like a sun god, with flames escaping from his hair and eyes.
She licked her dry lips. “You’re a dancer. Like a serious dancer.”
Blaze’s smile widened. She leaned more heavily, letting the building hold her up since her knees were no longer able to support her weight.
“I couldn’t resist the call of a wide open floor.”
“You’re like a ballerina,” Glori said, still in awe at the way the man could move.
“Danseur,” he corrected, emphasizing the second syllable of the word. “And yes, classically trained, the whole bit.”
©2017 Lulu M Sylvian. Blaze and Glori from The Twelve Strippers of Christmas. Available Now
