Catalin Monroe: A Short Story

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Catalin Monroe was a dancer – this was the only thing she knew for certain. Yet, most of time she only knew this as her feet hit the battered floor, humming in tune to a song that never existed. She moved in exact time to a partner she never had. But, to Catalin that thought of not dancing was inconceivable. Barren floors, cold with intertwined cracks like spider webs would turn to stained glass beneath her feet with swirling magnificent designs – a chorus of greens and reds, displaying the grandest of artistry. A diamond chandelier would replace the dim glow of a sun captured in clouds, wrapped like a baby in a blanket. She flowed like a pebble in a brook, cascading wherever the water took her. The chandelier above her would illuminate
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