With a soaked hand she gripped the doorknob, and pushed slowly. Hard, cold, and scuffed wooden floor greeted her bruised, aching feet. Heels beaten, hips wrenching, toes clenching.
Darkness outside brings rain slapping the window panes in perfect timing. Each drop clapping once, and quickly beading down. Applause. They seem to surround. Waiting. Gripping the slippery surface long enough to see inside the box that holds life.
The music plays with somber tone. Speaking direct to the movement and emotion created by the clouds crying out. The droplets pull together, and dance amid the weather. She stares into the haze. Fingers twitch. Neck stretches round from shoulder to shoulder. Light switch.
A blue hue fogs into the square footage. The sky illuminates the wood floor and all its lashings. Silhouette bending and swaying. Shadows disappear. Blisters being rubbed by ribbon. Achilles burning like coals as she points her toes. Pain expressed with movement, but not that which is physical.
She reaches out, grasps molecules with a clenched fist. Pulling in sweet air into gasping lungs. She is drowning. The ball of her foot hugs the cold tree pallets. She turns the earth in slow motion. The rain stands still. Arms stretched out, length. Core intact, strength. Her head drops back in surrender to the wind thrusting its way through the doors. Mirrors image portray spirit. A broken soul. Controlled inner chaos. The clouds loom, and the dark is peaceful as the music embraces.
Drops clap loudly above her. All catching glimpses of what their beauty looks like in human form. Emotion expressed through fluid movement. Something in common with the sky. She dances for Him.