He took her by the waist and they began to sway together, moving back and forth. There was no music; there was no need. The silence was their music. Raising his hand, she twirled around beneath it. Spinning around, that old happiness she hadn’t felt in a long time was returning like a flower blossoming in a field long untouched by rain. Back in his arms, they stepped in rhythm with one another. They were one construction, one dancing entity. She remembered it all. The duet she had always wanted to dance; the feeling she had always wanted to know. She knew it now. This blissful union in dance, this voiceless expression. Her true voice.