They went sliding around the beautiful ballroom floor, lanterns and candles ablaze as they zoomed elegantly around the spacious hall. Everything was silent except for the carefully orchestrated sliding of horsehair on tight strings. It was tearfully beautiful.
He led; very well, it was his way to be in a position of utmost trust and power.
She followed obediently with a pink smile painted on her porcelain countenance.
He swung her gracefully, she slid to the floor with a swish, he pulled her to his chest, spun her again, that perfect golden dress swirling about her tiny feet.
They used the entire space hungrily leaving the audience to move away at their own discretion. He dipped her again and trailed his charming hands down her thin neck. His hands were dark. They contrasted sharply against her white skin.
Slide. Spin. Dip. Spin again.
Twirl. Dip. Up. Down. Step. Slide.
Deep tones played as soft violins trilled. The audience watched in awe at the beauty before them, the lust that built up in the couple on the dance floor. His thumb found the hollow of her neck and he leaned in for a soft kiss to her open lips.
She writhed underneath his hold, her gasps echoed in the cathedral-like arches, the strings whined higher and higher. The audience’s eyes grew wide with terror, all the while that man imparted soft kisses to the small woman twisting in his powerful arms.
No one moved save the girl. Plucking weaved through the audience, then deep sorrowful notes, then ultimate silence.
She went limp.
Fell.
Purple hands still enclosed her throat as the man brushed his coat, leaned down and placed a final passionate kiss on her blue lips. He clapped in celebration and the audience mutely followed suit, still dumbfounded by the occurrence they had just all been witness to.
The man leaned down stiffly and picked up the woman. Carrying her easily through the crowd he nodded at the orchestra and the music picked up once again. The guests slowly split into couples and began to dance, fear plastered across everyone’s face. The man exited through to mammoth mahogany doors, the golden dress trailing behind his sure, slow steps.
The dance continued.
The door closed.
The orchestra played on.
Points:
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Canary word: Present
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Original Text:
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125,018 Literary Works • 672,861 Reviews
Hi there, Venturepants. I'm Conrad Rice, and I'll be your reviewer for today.
So, I have to say that your prose seems to be pretty good here. The action is easy to follow, very well written, and I can't find much of a fault in your description.
But your formatting here kills all of that. Rendering this entire thing in three paragraphs absolutely kills the mood you are trying to set, in my opinion. We aren't able to follow along as easily as we would like to be. Try breaking this up into a bit more traditional of a form for a poem. That way you can convey what you want to say and we can follow along much easier.
You've got a good start here. You just need to work with it a bit more. PM me if you have any questions or comments.
Good job, and good luck.
-Conrad Rice
Your voice is very strong here. I can see all the moves. And the style fits perfect.
The only thing Venture is for a poem the structure of this was a bit crowed together. I think this would look a helluva lot better with a lot more spaces. Other then that everything's damn near as close to perfect as you can get.