Ballet

The room was dimly lit and she was nervous as she walked through the door. Soft bluesy jazz and the smell of liquor filled the air. She stood near the bar for a few seconds gathering her confidence about her...

You can tell a lot about a woman by the way she walks. Watch the gentle sway of the hips and the way that each foot moves slightly to center as they progress forward. The delicateness of a petite ankle resting precariously upon a stilleto heel. Perfectly proportioned toes with the nails painted red. It seems such an unatural aspect for the eyes and yet, it demands attention. Notice too the rythmic swing to the arms and the gracefulness with which the hands clutch a tiny jeweled purse. The set of the shoulders and the slope of the neck outlined with wisps of silky hair. See the position of her chin; slightly, ever so slightly pointed down and tilted as if asking an unanswerable question. It's like a ballet really, watching a woman walk. Can you see it? Do you hear the music as she passes you on the street or in the resturaunt?

...she finds a quiet table toward the back of the club, a disctreet distance from the dance floor, tucked in a tiny corner of the room. The waitress brings a drink that was bought by a man at the bar. She turns and smiles a polite thank you, uncomfortable in the thought of being noticed. She sits alone at the tiny table made for just two. The deep blue silk of her dress glides slightly up her thighs as she crosses her legs. One foot beautifuly dangles above the hardwood floor and unconciously begins to move to the sultry cadence of the lead singer's voice. She lightly rests her hands on her lap and closing her eyes, listens to the music...

Would you approach her? Would you ask her to dance or buy her a drink? Or would you give her some generic, over-used pickup line? You want to watch her, you think about touching her and the softness of her skin. You imagine the smell of her hair. So, what do you do? You're thinking about it, I can tell.

...a few minutes go by and she starts to play with the hair at the back of her neck, twirling it about her fingers. The silouete of her cheek and earlobe set the stage for the sparkle of her diamond earings. She shifts her weight on the chair and uncrosses her legs leaving her thighs somewhat exposed from the previous position. So as she recrosses the other leg it slides just a bit more up her thigh. Her head is tilted down now as if she's thinking while she looks at her hands. Appearing to hear something out of the ordinary she turns and looks at the man who bought her drink. Her brows are knit together and a corner of her mouth is drawn up into not quite the polite smile she wore earlier. Her shoulders are small and delicate and as she scans the bar you notice for the first time her eyes. Round and childlike they draw you in. Long black lashes and a perfectly arched brow frames them. When her stare finaly rests on you, you tingle all over. The eyes are the window to the soul and for a brief moment she saw into the whole of you. She parts her lips; they are full and red and wear just a hint of that little girl pout, as if to say something and then simply smiles. Turning and relaxing back into her chair she is still smiling and her foot continues it's swaying to the music. After a while, as the smile leaves her face, she stands. Her graceful slender fingers holding her purse. She lifts her head and lets the hem line of her dress fall to it's rightful place and as she takes her first few steps it sways with her. She walks past where you sit at the bar, she knows you are watching and she somehow is not as nervous as she was when she came in. She stands in the doorway and pauses briefly, her head turns ever so slightly in your direction and yet she chooses to not make eye contact a second time. Gathering her confidence about her she steps into the light...

You can tell a lot about a woman by the way that she walks. Did you hear the music as she passed by?