She raised her hand, and the world stopped for her.

The cashmere cape danced in the air.

Every thread was the melody that drove the steps.

The steps were sometimes of a lion; sometimes of a panther.

Either way the heat was eager to claw my heart out.

Her arms and fingers twisted and waved.

I retreated backward and she approached onward.

Within the rhythm, my back was forced to the wall.

She slapped me.

“We are done!”

The next day I received a phone call from the divorce attorney.