They danced frantically, frenetically, writhing like fish, like eels. They leapt and pranced, rhythmic gazelles startled from the savannah of sound. The deejay closed his eyes and made his obeisances to the altar. The lights blinked and shifted, prodded uncomfortably by the twitching electric circuits.
He emerged, wiped a hand across his face, sniffed twice. Adjusted his package. Melted into the pulsating throng.
She emerged, more slowly. She dabbed at her face, at her running makeup, at her red eyes. Shoved her fist into her purse. Slipped away to the back.
On the floor, the music changed, and they danced.
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