In the afternoon, at an apartment suite near Fireworks Alley in Silvertown.
The drawn curtains blocked out the afternoon sun, leaving the room dim. A phonograph played a melodious dance tune, and a man and a woman embraced in dance.
The woman's movements were a bit stiff, but she still precisely followed the man's steps. There was no excessive force or exchange of glances between them, yet each rhythm was matched intimately, as if they were born to move as one.
As the dance reached its climax, the man spun the woman around the small apartment suite. Her red dress billowed like a blooming flower.
Approaching the end, the man raised his hand, while the woman elevated hers and began spinning swiftly on tiptoes. She spun faster and faster until the final beat of the dance arrived, and her heels stopped their rotation with the last tap on the floor.
