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#WritePhoto, Dancehall Of Dread

January 19, 2017 14 Comments

#writephoto

#writephoto

In the darkest moment of winter, heaviness and despair falls on the land.  Frightened workers huddle indoors, sharing the heat of a single stove in the dance hall of the dead.  The musical sounds drift in from the streets, strings and horns and voices of the past kill time by serenading the future.  The dance floor is void of happy feelings but full of feverish dread of the coming days.  The waltz goes on forever, the tempo hypnotic, mind numbing.  The dancers know all the tribal dances that have been danced for centuries in this place.  Circles of spirited colors whirl above the floor.  The walls vibrate with deep bass rhythm and drumming creatures representing sacrifices made to tradition.  The swift current of time sweeps the crowd up in a cloud of memory and doubt.

The donkey shadow on the wall opposes the one of the elephant wearing a hat.  The shadow puppets play the same parts forever, constantly changing costumes to deceive.  The audience blends into the puppetry, never minding the strings attached. The glow from the streetlight illuminates the dancing puppets as they pass.  The translucent quality of their weary bodies is briefly revealed for a moment.  Darkness and bitter cold then quickly envelops each one in dread.  Nobody knows if this is real or imaginary. This may be happening in the present, or we may be stuck in each other’s dreams. Is there an escape?  Are we under a spell?  Will this dance continue? Do we have a choice?

Visit Sue Vincent’s blog on Thursdays to find a photo prompt for fiction.  Create your own story to go with this week’s image.

#writephoto

#writephoto

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