A memory: written on February 15, 2003

She stood at the edge of the dance floor, a smile on her face, a twinkle in her eye, slowly removing a single red rose from its cellophane wrapper, carressing its thorns with her fingertips. He stood amongst the crowd of people, clad in formality, blues and black, taking the flower from her out stretched arm in his teeth. The cameras flashed, before she too held the rose in her mouth.

Then the TANGO began. Ever so closely they stood. He carefully lay the stem between her teeth as not to hurt her, the rose matching her close-fitting burgandy dress. They positioned themselves on the dance floor, her back arched back ever so slightly, his powerful pose commanding the dance across the floor. A powerful dance, but uniquely eye catching. Flashes surrounded them on the nearly empty dance floor. So many pictures. Not a misstep.

And then with the end of the song came a rumba. Still with the rose, they continued to dance.

In memory of Dirk Henkemans.