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A ballroom, lit brightly with the sounds of the band, the laughter of the couples, and the clinks of wine glasses. The beat of the bass reverberated down their spines and the trumpets seemed to move their feet, and the voice of Frank Sinatra made bodies sway. He started to sing “I’ve Got the World on a String” prompting the men to take up their dates and start to slow dance, softly singing along. All just to see that smile play across her lips; a sign, excuse, to caress bodies, to be caressed. Ah what infectious infatuation. The room was heavy with the scent of dreams and bright futures. It felt warm, fluffed, indulging. Taking a deep breath, you could lose yourself in the happiness of someone else. Of course creating your own would be better, but…it’s harder than it looks to reach your dreams…and just looking at it, it looks nearly impossible.