There's a pale girl dressed in black over there, near the jukebox. She's swaying slowly, in a sedated manner, as the
music starts. Moving a small step one way, then back, arms swinging slowly, she picks momentum as the chosen melody rises into full dance tempo.
Most likely she'd not mind company.
"You remembered the moves." he says.
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The music is unusual, but it's still dancing, right? She loves dancing.
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"You look sad, what's wrong?"
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He puts a pleasant jig on.
"Oh the farmer and the cowman should be friends,
Oh the farmer and the cowman should be friends,
One man likes to push a plough,
The other likes to chase a cow,
But that's no reason why they can't be friends."
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He twirls her around.
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"Someone here givin' you trouble?" he asks.
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"Back in my dark home dream." There is a long story there, waiting to be told.
Maybe tonight, maybe another time.
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She will got for the short version right now. "I can't."
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"I seem t'be stuck here."
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She's warm now. All nice soft and warm. "The door's barred, closed, or swings into nothing?"
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She does glance towards the door, suddenly worried hers would vanish too.
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