Dancing With You
“Deels, are you sure this is the right place?”
“Well, this is what you wrote down,” Delia responded with a trace of exasperation.
The two companions were plastered against the wall of shop, peering warily around the corner. Around them an autumn dusk had descended, making the air slightly nippy as a breeze blew past them, ruffling their hair. Patsy was leaning over Delia, her scarf brushing the top of Delia’s hair. The two were nervously examining a building across the street, where a few women had begun to gather. The wall of the building was unmarked and plain white, except for the simple green cellar door facing them. The group of women leaned up against the building’s wall, talking amiably amongst themselves or smoking cigarettes.