The Long Playing 45 And The Eternal Waltz

To the tune of Am I Blue?, they waltz. Actually, they waltz in spite of the tune. They waltz with the knowledge that they waltz eternal, existing in a set rhythm forever. Twenty pairs shuffle slowly around the floor staring deeply inwards towards their other halves. Entropy and fatigue slowly brake them. They fall and the waltz continues as the fallen are methodically trampled. They die without sound, without emotion.

The old wood floor is getting scraped up in the spins and the somber motions. The old high school is in pretty bad shape all around. The wiring in particularly terrible condition but Wilma had the know how and the patience to get the lights working. The record was harder still to find but it was worth it. She sits next to her small record player and drinks her brandy on the very top of the bleachers.

In front of Wilma is a few members of the Westwood High Class of 1947. She can still recognize Effie, spider veins and all. Lance is a little bit more arthritic and a bit more worse for wear. Sam has still got that stupid grin. These are the great faces of her high school yearbook and people that would never been caught dead with Wilma. Well, obviously that was an overstatement on their part.

The sound stops and the dancers realize that they are dead. They allow themselves to fall, a bitter and short lived mercy. Wilma is quick to move the needle back to the start of the record and the dance starts again. As long as the record plays, they can’t stop and Wilma intends to play this 45 for a long time.

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