The Final Dance
by Isabelle Hichens
The icy water hit her like an electric whip. A freezing panic seized her body as she tried to swim amongst the other passengers, who had fallen from the sinking ship with her. The cold clamour of the death fighting mob quickly receded, as hearts disengaged with souls. Images were flying in her mind like shooting stars, dancing with the distress rockets in the night sky. She saw the church candles, little flames of comfort when life was dark and dire. She saw her mother’s pale face, the day she left to board the Titanic, to go and live her dream. She watched people dancing on Deck D at the impromptu party they’d had just yesterday; she relished Jacob’s eyes as he held her on the dance floor. The last sounds she heard was the slowing drumming of her heart followed by the haunting yet joyful melody of the bagpipes.
Originally from France, Isabelle loves the English language and particularly relishes the challenge of creating meaningful stories using a small number of words. She lives in Oxfordshire with her husband and three children and teaches French and Spanish in a lovely school.
This story was shortlisted in the January 25 Monthly Micro Competition.