Some doomsday situation was going down. Perhaps the river had ruptured and exhausted lives. Maybe the sun was leaking and we were all quarantined. Something.
I had a bossy management position where comprehensive and authoritative decisions were expected.
I was tired. My teeth hurt and were being crushed by other teeth.
The party was contrived and rife with men.
I gazed at the bulging river through distorted hotel glass.
I liked the music being played in the room, upbeat in contrast to the view.
Barak Obama walked into the room and I suddenly felt relief.
Instantly everything changed. Someone offered him a drink. The party chatter became smoothing, the clouds started to fade.
He was relaxed, happy, and not self conscious.
People were taking photos of him with their phones.
I asked him to dance and he stared at me. I usually say the wrong thing so I only mildly flinched at his non response.
You're so short, he said. It would be like dancing with a child. I winced and my party dress withered.
He lifted me onto an ottoman with casters and this is how we danced. With my hand on his shoulder he slid me about the room.
You can fix anything, I told him.
No, he said, I just know how to dance.
No comments:
Post a Comment