It’s been three years since Danny last danced.
He’s sitting there, on the edge of the dance floor, watching all the dancers dancing.
But day after day, he’ll watch, and then get up and go home.
Without dancing.
The next day, he’s back there at the edge of the dance floor, sitting.
And watching.
Sometimes, he smokes a cigarette.
Other times, he pulls out his phone and calls someone.
Once, a dancer walked up to Danny and asked him to dance.
He shook his head and smiled.
Maybe one day, he’ll dance again.
Or maybe he won’t. Nobody really knows.