A dance was an art form, whether in front of an audience full of gentlemen and ladies or in front of drunken losers in a bar. She swirled around the pole as graceful and elegant as a respectable ballet dancer lost in the beauty of her own motions. Her eyes behind the mask that had been closed, opened as her set ended and locked directly with the steely, grey eyes of the man in the front row. Her heart skipped a beat. He knew who she was! A fellow co-worker at the local high school. A teacher who had broken all the rules!
Left wondering what would happen when she went to work on monday morning?
By
Dwayne
Clark
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