Wednesday, March 2, 2011

The D Chronicles Vol 1 - (Men): Dancer

Joaquin Cortes - Flamenco Dancer


Hector Reynoso was a careless man that couldn’t ever pass up the chance to dance. Even when the dance took him through the fire he couldn’t help but dance right through it. Out of bed and into the fire is exactly where Hector found himself dancing for the last time.

Hector wasn’t naturally a graceful man when it came to the dance. However he couldn’t find himself contained without it. From the time he was a small boy he liked to dance. Hector was absolutely preoccupied with the rhythm of life and constantly moving to it. As far back as he could remember he had found himself drawn to the movement. To see Hector move, a person might believe he had been trained in the fine art of dance. He could find himself lost to any rhythm. Deep down in the sound of the music he would let the feeling take hold.

You see Hector wasn’t a man that moved to the beautiful music with one partner. Like a bee he would pass from flower to flower in an unbridled movement. Many women had found themselves falling in time to his tango, salsa or rumba before tumbling into his bed. Time and time again Hector found himself moving from partner to partner whenever the rhythm changed. And when it was over he found himself never knowing more than a woman’s hip sway or her waist spin.

Understand that as a true dancer it should never be need for a partner as much as the need to dance. Yet with Hector it wasn’t the case.

Hector’s need for a partner eventually overcame his need to dance. A need that was filled with no particular string of women. He had no type set when it came to a new partner. Some spent a considerable amount of time seeking attention. And others were not getting attention otherwise. Some simply liked the idea of man that could dance. And of course Hector took them right up in any way they desired.

So many times the dance came and there were different women. Some flavored by the variety of a heel kick. Others with the rounded tilt of their hip. Most of them desiring nothing more than his complete focus. And he gave it without question.

To Hector women represented the beauty in the music. And he rarely passed up the opportunity to share that beauty in the dance. He felt that any woman could be molded into a fine partner. Even those lacking the grace and understanding of movement could find peace of mind in the rhythm. As long as the woman felt strongly moved by the sound and beat, her movement would fall into an expression without flaw. And it was perfect because it came from directly within and she was possessed by the movement in his arms.

When two people find themselves coupled in a moment of passion such as the uninhibited movements of a dance there’s nothing but expression being released. They know in that combined movement that they share a variety of emotions that connect them further. As dance is an expression of emotions it can be tied very closely to the sensitivities of a person. By these emotional connections, Hector would find himself completely expressed. For every woman that would find her way into Hector’s arms he would find himself into her bed.

Now whenever you’re about to do something for the last time you never realize it’s going to be the last of anything. It’s the same ol’ thing just like any other until it’s over. And the same can be said about Hector Reynoso. He never saw it coming.

Hector met a partner that he couldn’t entirely absorb, Grace.

Grace was simply something he had not planned upon. Most importantly she was a woman that belonged to another like so many others had before her. Their dance led them exactly where Hector had always been with his partners. Into the bedroom.

But unlike the others, Grace was different. It was like playing with fire, and he couldn’t help enjoying how much it burned. Especially the passionate dance that came after each dance. A lustful dance that took place in the sheets, upon the floor, and against the walls.

Hector had found his match in Grace, on and off of the dance floor. Grace changed when the rhythm did not. She anticipated his moves and kept the beauty in the rhythm constantly changing.

Taking a new partner had always been easy. It had lacked for a challenge and seemed to be endless. Until he met her, he had never wondered about an end. An end that could possibly bring the rhythm to a dead halt and he didn’t mind. A small thread of restraint built deep within that relatively carefree head of his. And he couldn’t help but question his own motives when it came to Grace.

That last dance coupled by an unbridled emotion state sent him spinning carelessly towards his new partner. Not knowing more than the lock of her eyes, Hector followed the lead of her movements across the floor and toward the one thing that could bring it too an end. The passionate dance sent them straight into a waiting rage that couldn’t be stopped.

At the end of their passionate rendezvous waited a jealous man fueled with a rage and a gun. A man that heartlessly intended to get his square retribution. Although Grace had never hidden her husband from him it was something that Hector hadn’t prepared himself for. Staring into the aim of a gun while dancing with a beautiful woman for the last time.

Much to Hector’s dismay, a jealous man rarely sees things with a level head. The yelling started slow and grew louder as the gun hovered. Grace without a thought attempts to cool a convinced man. As Hector watches Grace cry, beg and slap at this man with a gun he is dumbfounded by the situation. To him there was no need for the pain of it. The man still had his wife and soon the time would come when she would find herself still dancing to the same rhythm that did not involve Hector.

In the end nothing can be said as the last time winds itself down to a matter of a finger pull. Soon enough the crosshairs of the rifle hold their target upon his forehead and sooner rather than later they’ll find their mark realized.

When the careless Hector Reynoso found himself in bed for the last time you have to wonder if he thought it was worth the dance that he couldn’t pass up.

Dance. Finding a groove is harder than it looks. This has very little to do with that but it’s been on the desktop since before the crash. Thinking of Matisse. Decide for yourselves. Enjoy. live, laugh, love, breath and… dance. Kisses. m.

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