The story was abrupt amidst the fallacy of trance and treadle. He then picked up from the point where the tables turned. There was no point; she lost the interest of the intrigue. A song hums in the background and the attention diverts to the beats.

The beats make him remember of the time they danced together - unaware of the noise behind, his hand gently touching her face. She closes her eyes with that touch of gentle warmth and perspires to yearn. The dance is soft, a crisp of magic shun between layers of love.

And the woman is happier than the previous instance.