The Flower
Worship - Ari Abdul
“Holy shit, did you see this?” Z shoves her phone in my face.
The screen is so close that it looks like tiny, blurry words.
I swerve a little to the left, as it takes my attention off the road.
We’re on our way to the dance studio, and we only have one class scheduled today because I cannot fathom teaching a full day for my own mental health.
“W–What am I looking at?” I ask, not risking trying to read the small letters strung together on her screen.
I’m good at multitasking, but not that good.
I’ll crash this car into a building, then we both won’t be reading anything ever again.
The phone is quickly moved away from my face as she reads the article aloud to me.
Breaking News
A body in the downtown area was discovered. A middle-aged male, white, possibly in his thirties, was found mangled with missing fingers, and tied to a tree. More details to come about this gruesome attack. If anyone has information, please contact Seven News.
“That’s terrifying! Tied to a fucking tree?” she exclaims. We haven't had a murder this gruesome in years. What is this world coming to? And it's so close to home. Adding “watch out for a murderer” to my list of problems.
“No way? Oh my god, that is terrifying. If he was tied to a tree, that means he was displayed for some reason. How sick.” I say back to her.
The tires rumble beneath us as I pull into a parking spot next to the dance studio.
Cars screech past in a blur as I wait for the traffic to clear before opening my door.
I hate street parking.
“Knowing your luck lately, you're not staying out late, missy,” Zoe says, implying the worst.
“Shut up, Mom. I’m definitely not taking any chances,” I joke back, but a part of me feels a little unnerved by it. Work, then home. Dance, then home. That's all that's on my agenda.
The bell to the studio dings as I unlock and swing the door open.
My mood shifts instantly. Dancing is my safe haven.
No matter how bad the world gets, or should I say, no matter how bad my world gets, I can always count on dancing.
Don’t mind me while I drown out the chaos of my life for the next few hours.
Zoe comes in after flipping the switch, illuminating the space. My eyes go blind for a moment before adjusting to the fluorescent lights. I set my bag behind the small check-in desk to the left of the door, and Zoe does the same.
“I think the class has the routine down. Should we have them solo today?” I ask her. She places a finger on her chin in thought.
“I don’t see why not! I think it would be so fun to have them do that. Make them build the confidence of not having the class as backup,” she agrees. I just hope the girls agree too. If I dim the lights enough, I’m sure it'll be okay. Everything is better in the dark, isn't it?
“Totally, like, surprise! You get up there and shake that ass alone today.” I laugh, kicking off my shoes and placing them on the mat near the door.
“They’re going to kill us.” Zoe has a fear of making people angry. That excludes me, of course. Being friends long enough, I would hope she would push my buttons every once in a while. She places her shoes next to mine, and I shake my head in disapproval.
“You know it gives me the ick when you wear socks with sandals, right?” I say with a judgy tone. She chuckles and turns, walking toward the mirrors like she's proud of it. I can just imagine the overstimulation of them on my feet. I wiggle, my body shaking in fake chills.
“You wish you could be like me.” She winks, smiling. I roll my eyes and follow her to the floor. We both sit on the hardwood, stretching our limbs. Being thirty and all, stretching is essential now. What I wouldn’t give to be twenty again.
I sigh, loving the feeling of my muscles extending. Zoe and I do the same preparation. We kick our legs out, touching our toes. Then we swing our arms up over our heads, pulling on one another, feeling the tingle on our triceps. We do a few more stretches before getting prepped for the class.
Z and I have this unspoken language. It’s like a gift of telepathy that none of us asked for. I click play on my phone; a warm-up song fills the air. We both get into pose, ready to practice before the girls arrive for class.
The music is loud, being an enjoyable distraction to my constantly running brain. We wait for the beat to drop before we move in sync. Worship by Ari Abdul plays around us. The sensation of feminine energy washes over the two of us, and it’s like we turn into vixens.
We step forward, walking sensually before dropping to our knees.
I swing my head, flipping my hair backward as I crawl forward.
The skin on my knees and hands rubs against the hard surface.
I sit up, running my hands from my hips up to my neck, and grab the sensitive skin there with a light strangle.
Our bodies move like we are one and the same. A breath of lust leaves my lips as I bite down on the bottom one. My right leg kicks forward into the air. I hold myself up on my hands, leaning back at the motion. The hard floor meets my foot with a thump.
My weight shifts onto it while swinging my other leg from under me, making me move into a downward dog position. The fabric of my shorts hugs my curves, enhancing my suppleness and adding to the illusion.
Zoe and I both trail our hands from our feet to the apex of our thighs, slowly, sensually. My hair whips backward once again. I stare at myself in the mirror. My hands rest on the front of my hips while my body rolls. Looking like a soft wave on a beach.
We turn around in unison, twirling an arm above our heads.
The center of my body continues to wave, feeling myself get lost in the music.
Little strands of hair cling to my face in every motion.
We drop down, bend our knees, then come back up, and repeat the move. I spread my knees wide in the process.
The pacing of my breaths is quick, already feeling bent out of shape. We turn, facing away from the mirrors, and roll our bodies one more time before ending with another pose. The rise and fall of our chests are at a steady pace. We both smile at each other at the accomplishment.
The members of the class should arrive in just a few minutes.
I press pause on my phone before the playlist continues.
I can’t wait to see each person solo today.
When a momma bird pushes her baby off a tree and it takes flight, that's what it always feels like.
Some may stumble and fall. But we always get back up.