Retro-Active Star Date: - 1.

(This is a piece I composed for a friend a couple years ago.  I then re-worked it for an essay during my composition I class roughly three semesters ago.  She asked me for a copy, so I once again re-worked it slightly, and have arrived at this product.)

Plastered across billboards and filling various types of waves through the air we breathe, there are faces that everyone sees and can’t help but feel a slight twinge of jealousy. These are the famous people. The one’s who don’t wait for tables, the individuals who can not walk down the street without someone screaming their name or snapping a photograph. In the back of our minds, we are all green with envy, desperately hoping that one day we will be the source of such conversation and special attention. One night, just off the crowded blocks of Court Avenue, I, along with another, found that elusive fame.


We danced that night. Casually, but yet for the entire world to see. I picked you up in those fields just south of a foreign downtown, your hair wind-swept, and your face sunburned. I took you into the city and showed you the alluding wonders you had always missed on your previous visits to the capital city. We walked the gardens outside the Centre for the Arts and then picked our way through the staccato traffic as we meandered downtown.

As we rolled down the windows with an electric buzz, we felt the electricity of the city night on the breeze. The sun was falling from the sky and all of Court Avenue was alive with flickering lights and meaningful conversation. We stretched our legs and looked for somewhere to find the solace brought by good food and drink at the end of a long day. We settled on a restaurant that fell short of Hollywood ambiance, but had the charm of an establishment that operated just outside of the turbulent mainstream.

I held the door as we embarked on our quest to silence our stomachs while enjoying each other’s company. You smiled at the hostess as she walked us over through the heavy smells of well cooked meat and a tantalizing array of spices. We were seated in side wall booth, just comfortable enough for two weary travelers to enjoy the privacy and ambiance provided by close quarters.

Then, in that restaurant, an old time melody crossed through the discreetly hidden speakers and captivated each of us. My thoughts raced as each syllable clicked inside my head, spurring my toe to tap and a gently placing a smile on my lips. I had no choice but to stammer the obvious, "would you like to dance?"

At first you looked at me as if I was attempting to play some cruel joke, and my heart hung in the balance as realization crept into your eyes, lighting them to illuminate the darkness of the room. Soon, a smile found its way onto your face as you came to comprehend the legitimacy of my offer. You looked down giggling like a small child as you took my hand.

As we stood, the eyes of every after-work business man in his shabby sport coat and his second-rate stay at home wife in her summer dress shifted from their meaningless conversation and locked upon us. You could feel the envy in their stares, the jealousy outlined in blue and gray eyes all across the room as they quit speaking about the average days they had been living out for years and focused solely on us. The two.
The texture of your dress was rich against my arms as you nestled in, gently swaying your hips, locking them into mine as our breathing and sway met with the music. In that moment, one tiny corner of the world admired and resented us.

We knew in their beat-up SUVs and foreign cars the conversations would revolve around us as each coupled headed home to pay the babysitter and crawl in bed, "those two young kids who just stood up in the middle of dinner and began dancing, oh, to be young, etc." We could feel it from the sets of eyes as we paid the bill, stood and left. I continued to draw looks as you were in the bathroom, absent-mindedly flicking a tooth-pick with my tongue, making sure to soak in the moment, making eye contact to match every absent-minded stair.

I held the door and the city sky felt alive, electric. We went through fits of laughter as we walked out into the streets, knowing that for that one night we were famous. An unknown celebrity that would be looked upon by others who had been there and would always recall in their minds the two young kids that weren't too afraid to dance. The two kids who weren't afraid to be young and in love. The two.