Eternal Youth

Resembling a Renoir luncheon painting, the soft sun began to set as she was seated around a table of brilliantly colored, aluminum, patio chairs, and equally brilliant companions. The reverberations of the jazz instruments muted the restless waves of the Seine next to her. The strong, distinctive, rhythmic pattern penetrated her sun-kissed skin and instantaneously her dainty, black, kitten heels tapped the cobblestone freely. Fixated on the swirling couples, the melody caused her body to undulate in the no longer sturdy chair. Incessantly swaying, her obsessed gaze was interrupted by an approaching, effervescent bloke in a tweed suit whose extended hand was incapable of not snapping. Soaring from the chair, her tapping foot found itself atop paved ground surrounded by candid danseurs, as though she had been transported to the Vaudeville stage. Lightly gripping the hand of her new partner, her swinging body rotated with ease around the other performers as if the spectacle had been rehearsed. Her effortless, luminous smile radiated as her upbeat, quick, yet timed kicks harmonized with the stimulating tune. As the interminable, sanguine chanson appeared to conclude, the spunky, Parisien guinguette found itself enclosed by a bed of glittering stars. The once twirling bodies froze in anticipation, and the cue of the drum revitalized their snapping hands and twisting toes.