Slow Dancing In A Burning Room

The hinges creaked as I rolled the old barn door back revealing the dark musky interior. It was always amazing to me how you could feel a places history when you walked in.

In this barn I could tell that life in here had been happy once. That at some point in life it was filled with caring animals and children’s laughter. Horses had neighed and pigs had squealed. Only now it was an abandoned piece of history that sat in the middle of an open field.

I held my lantern up higher looking around the old wood flooring that squeaked as I walked.

Usually, I would be afraid of entering such a place. If I were alone, I never would have dared.

I looked over at Roger smiling ruefully as he walked in behind me looking around in the same amazement that I had. It was the perfect location, and I knew that it would work for what we needed it for.

I continued walking until I got to a horse stall towards the back. It had been cleaned out leaving no hay or droppings behind. In the middle of the wide stall was a small circular table with one candle in the middle and a small vase holding a yellow tulip, my favorite.

I giggled walking in to sit down in one of the two chairs.

My stomach had major butterflies even though we’d done this date a hundred times now…