Dance like everyone's watching

I didn't get this far in journalism by taking the easy way out. I adjusted my dress, put on my sternest 'Don't-Start-Humping-Me' face and entered the fray.

Our eyes met from across the room. He was dressed in a nice suit; his elegance would have looked out of place amidst the mean chaos if he were the type of man who could ever look out of place. With a charming smile he strode up to me, took my hand and kissed it gently. As I stared into the unseen depths of his eyes he had been waiting for me his entire life, waiting for me to dance him away from the crude ugliness of this house and the tribal people who lived there. He asked me to dance him through the stars that we would watch together, and the dreams that we would dream together, content that our love would shelter us from a world that could never understand its lonely poets.

If you are of a sensitive disposition I urge you to stop this article here, left with a vision of Allie happily dancing through the night with a charming stranger...