Warren danced like he owned the floor. Des’ree kept it cool and slow. Honey slithered up and down like a charmer’s snake. Kade picked out rhythms within rhythms. They were the kings and queens of the Electric Café.
They took to the floor early.
The suburban crowd started rolling in around eleven. They edged onto the floor in twos and threes. Not until midnight, when cocktails of all sorts were kicking in, did they begin to loosen up.
Des’ree picked out Corey, a boy not long out of high school—a basketballer perhaps. His lucky night. Honey chanced a dance with a pretty blonde with an angular mouth. ‘Matilda,’ she shouted as she began mimicking Honey’s swing and sway. Warren recognised Paul from another club. Kade just kept dancing.
Three a.m. the place started to clear. Couples, some new-formed, others who’d arrived together, took taxis back to the suburbs. Des’ree and Honey and Warren took their evening’s partners to other places.
Kade kept dancing. Rhythms within rhythms. Beats within beats. They started cleaning the place around him. Turned the lights on and the music off. Kade’s world closed down at six. The sun rose on a new day.
small stories about love 