Saturday 3 April 2010

Dance, Dance, Dance till they drop

fire[11]

dance

 

 

 

 

 

They are chandeliers, gold gilt stairs in great halls, clothes from the bloody fingers of seamstress blinded by candlelight. Living to a dead music that sways, rises and falls as they will.  We dance by the fire of the night, hips shaking and caressing for the flesh of the willing.

Random Word: Dancing at the revolution


My Six Word Saturday # 3

Describing your life (or something) this Saturday in a phrase using just six words. This is what others say on Show My Face.

FAIL

Son has hitched safely to Morocco **

** He’s hitching from London to Casablanca with friends to raise money to support school programs  in Africa. Naturally the wife had decided he’s going to become a missing person news item and will not relax until the homecoming. Ahem, I was only tracking him via the charity website for her sake.


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