Challenge #01829-E005: Working HolidaysteemCreated with Sketch.

in fiction •  last year 


Terpsichore, Muse of Dancing - conga line, Nuf Said! -- Knitnan

Even divinities need a holiday. After inspiring dancers to do new and interesting things with their bodies, with their costumes, even with lighting and how they made the music they danced to - while they were dancing - even a divine force needed a breather.

But a goddess of dance must go where she is worshipped.

You could spot her if you tried. There's just something more about the embodiment of a divinity. A glow. An imperceptible something-something that inspires everyone around them. Even on their day off. On a cruise ship. Late at night when everyone is inebriated enough to think that a conga line is a cool idea. The influence of Terpsichore is obvious. The conga line is not only in sync, but actually looks good.

It's the only way you could tell for sure.

The muse herself is lounging on a deckchair with a froufrou drink. It's inside a coconut that is bedecked with too many streamers, glitter, curly straws and paper umbrellas. The best you could say about that kind of drink was that the alcohol was in there somewhere. She watches in vague disinterest as the hardy perennial Drunken Flailer suddenly busts moves that he never knew he had and would likely never remember. Accidentally impressing several young women who had previously passed on his doughy countenance.

She sighed. Maybe they'd like him for his personality at a later date.

The D.J. put on Genesis. A song that should have been appropriate for the late-night-early-morning crowd of revellers. I Can't Dance. And the dance floor filled with spontaneous choreography that some of the aforementioned young women preserved for posterity via Youtube.

"Honestly," said Erato, also lounging with a large drink - a long, slow double-entendre in an unlikely and uncomfortable location to be doing any such thing. "This is supposed to be break time."

Terpsichore shrugged. "I am trying to turn it off. I am. I swear."

Three balding, elderly holidayers were re-enacting the last minutes of the video clip. Perfectly.

"I can't take you anywhere," sighed Erato.

[AN: I currently can't access Streemian at the moment. We're 404'd. So, once again, the Blasts from My Past are on hold until I can access Streemian.]

[Image (c) Can Stock Photo / nan104]

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