“Care for a dance?”
I glanced up and followed the outstretched hand to the face that accompanied it. A young man with a crooked smile and bright green eyes. His light brown hair was a little tousled and it looked like he hadn’t shaved for a few days. He wore a white dress shirt that was rolled up at the sleeves and faded jeans. I sat up from my slumped position that I had grown accustomed to as the night wore on. I reached my hand out, then hesitated, as if this were some sort of joke, or perhaps just a dream that I would pass right through. Then I grabbed his hand, and the night flew by.


People were lined up on either side of me, dressed in their best. I gazed down at the bouquet of roses, incarnadine against my white dress. I looked up into bright green eyes. He was wearing a tuxedo, but his hair was still tousled and he still hadn’t shaved. Behind him, a man in black robes with a leather book stood straight and relaxed. I looked back to the man with bright green eyes. He held out his hand.
“Care for a dance?”
I smiled, and grasped his hand in mine.


The little child in front of me crossed her arms and pouted as I pointed to her bedroom. She stormed off down the hall, and I sighed and turned around. I grabbed a sponge and knelt to scrub the crayon covered wall. Another exasperated sigh escaped me. I reached my hand up blindly to the cupboard for some soap. A warm, dry hand encompassed mine and pulled me to my feet. He coolly took the sponge from my hand and placed it on the kitchen table, then turned the radio on. He smiled, and brushed a loose strand of hair away from my face. Slowly, he leaned down to whisper in my ear.
“Care for a dance?”
We spun rapidly around the room and my laughter filled the house.


I looked out the window, staring at the tire swing that my dad had made when I was little. I remember him pushing me on it during the summer, the hot sun blocked by the shade of the tree. My sight blurred over and sobs escaped my lips. Drops of liquid diamonds left dark blotches on my black dress. Carefully, his arms wrapped around me and I buried my face in his chest. My sobs came out loud and hoarse. He shushed me gently and lifted my chin up with his fingers.
“Care for a dance?”
My sobs stopped and I closed my eyes as we rocked back and forth, listening to the people talking around us.


Waving to the woman, her husband, and her son as they left the walkway to our house, I turned and went back inside. Pictures lined the walls along with priceless treasures that time had given me. I stopped in the living room and rubbed my aching hands. My old, wrinkly image was reflected back at me from a picture of a man with bight green eyes that was on the mantle piece. I started to cough, and the force of the cough shook my body. A gentle hand rested on my shoulder, calming the shakes. I spun around and was embraced by warm arms.
“Care for a dance?”
I rested my head in his shoulder and we swayed gently.


I looked at him from my bed. He rested just a couple of feet away, on the same type of bed and in the same gown as me. He had a breathing tube hooked up and a dark monitor stood by his bed. It had been softly beeping a second ago. He looked so strange, with a flat face and his bright green eyes were closed. I smiled sadly, then closed my eyes. Everything was white, everything was quiet. I couldn’t move, couldn’t talk. Then he came, dressed in a white dress shirt with rolled up sleeves and faded jeans. He had a crooked smile on his face and his bright green eyes sparkled. He held out his hand.
“Care for a dance?”
I smiled, and we danced for eternity.