a man dances with his deceased wife to a song that's still theirs
My body is a cage
That keeps me from dancing with the one I love
But my mind holds the key
~My Body is a Cage, Peter Gabriel
He takes another swig of a wine that tastes more expensive than he can afford, and when he opens his eyes the light cast by the chandelier overhead is like the most sunshine he’s felt in ages. There’s a warm buzz building in his head and his toes and it really might just be the alcohol doing his thinking for him, but this sure as hell sounds like their song.
It’s a nice restaurant in the rich part of town and the tiny sliver of floor between the elegantly dressed tables and the stage doesn’t look like it’s expecting anyone to hop up and dance, buthe sees her smile. The live band, which quite frankly isn’t as good as one would usually see in such an establishment, hiccups into the chorus, and he stands, wiping his upper lip on a crimson linen napkin.
No-one so much as glances at him as he makes his way through the forest of tables, and in a way, that makes it all easier. He keeps his gaze forward and imaginesshe’s smiling, following behind himand managing to step on the backs of his shoes with every skipping stride,younger than he should have to remember her.
People are starting to stare by the time he makes it to the front of the stage, and when he taps his foot it might be a bit out of time with the music. Nevertheless, as the band shimmies into the chorus again and he starts to dance, humming to himself, his hands hanging in the empty air in front of him where she should be.
His golden wedding band twinkles in the light from the room’s enormous chandelier, his heart beats like the music’s the only thing telling it that it has to, andshe smiles.