A Pencil’s Ballroom

A dancer, sharp and lean, dressed in silver approached the tile of the dance floor. From the opposite direction, a figure, only a lack of light, advanced with the dancer. They met on the floor, held hands, became one, and danced off together; a series of curves and swirls, swerving in and out of the sapphire engravings in the once-spotless marble. As the gracefully danced their way across the floor, a trail of moonlight lingered, rows upon rows of markings glimmered, and a story formed.

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