Guy approached dancing in a manner all of his own. Ignoring the rhythm of the music and other irrelevancies, he threw out his arms and legs at seemingly random intervals. He followed this with a rapid jog on the spot, possibly in the attempt to catch up with the music. Then there was the almost graceful pirouette, followed by the slightly less graceful stumble over empty bags and boxes.

I, who only ever resorted to dancing under threat of extreme violence and if the bar was closed, could only sit and admire such ineptitude, Guy must have practised tirelessly to be so impervious to rhythm.

Taken from: Hanging Around Until – a novel by David Hadley

Published by David Hadley

A Bloke. Occasionally points at ducks.

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