their song

Her feet rested on his, as he led his little girl in a slow dance across the wooden  floor. He hummed the tune as he always did, though she noticed his feet were slowing down, and from time to time, there was a a new pause in the melody.
And in one of those lulls, a silent pause in their song, she could almost touch the first memory she had of this dance, and her in his arms, and the smell of his shirt. And in that same brief pause, she feared the silence of his voice, the end of the song, losing their dance.
He picked up then where he had left off, and she clung a little tighter to his hand, and closed her eyes, willing herself to memorize this instant, and never ever let it go.


Optimistic Existentialist said...

Very nostalgic post. I think this is my favorite thus far.

Charity said...

Thanks, I'm such a daddy's girl.