THE THIRD MATING
He stepped closer, reached out a hand, and I took it before I could even think.
We started to dance.
Slow.
The kind of dance you only see in old movies.
For a moment, it felt like peace. His hand on my waist, the music humming softly, the world spinning quietly around us.
Then something changed.
The gramophone stuttered. The melody cracked, slowed, warped.
My heels slid across something wet.
I looked down.
The marble floor wasn’t shining anymore. It was smeared red.
The song kept playing, but now it sounded far away. I looked up, and the dancers were gone. Every single person was on the ground.