STORY: ‘Sonata in B Negative’ by Jack Hillman

Allegro: Fast

He felt his blood sing as he moved through the crowd. Various harmonies called to him from around the room, buoying his spirit as he searched for a partner for the night. His thoughts spun with visions of thigh, shoulder, and curve of breast as he moved among the dancers. A smile here, a wink there: each was answered or not; evaluated for potential and effect. Here, a shy glance called out to his predatory nature. There, an answering glint of canine and incisor strove to match his power as a hunter. The field was full tonight, ready for the hunt. The hunters were out in full panoply to seek their prey. He laughed as a slim form brushed against him, twining an arm around his neck to grab a kiss before rushing off into the press of bodies. Tonight would be his triumph.

Adagio: Slowly, leisurely, with grace

The room stopped spinning and he looked to his left. She stood poised, her back to him, but as aware of his presence as he was of her. The lift of her chin proved her strength. He began to circle, slowly moving away through the crowd to keep to her rear, watching as she moved with him, matching his steps with small turns of her own. She spoke to no one. All who came near her moved away, seemingly compelled to leave a space around her, even in the crush of the crowd. His steps brought him to the edge of the room and he began to step closer. She balanced the distance between them, two predators coming together to mate or do battle. The terms were not yet decided. His heart slowed in his chest, a hard pounding that seemed to push molten lead through his veins. The echoes he felt from her gave him reason to believe she wished a closer meeting, but on her terms, not his. He smiled and slowed his steps further, moving away for a moment. She followed, seeking to maintain the distance and the contact. She hungered, as did he, both for the hunt and for the meeting. He smiled again as she turned for the first time, looking him in the eyes with passion barely restrained. She licked her lips and stepped closer still.

Scherzo: Sportive, playful movement

They danced, a dozen feet apart, separated by men and women oblivious to the interplay. Two pockets of space on the crowded floor, they moved in concert, still apart. A shift of her shoulder brought an answering tilt of his head. A dip of his hip left her back arched, displaying her breasts in their thin covering of silk. Her chin lifted, neck bowed to display a smooth line of skin that begged for a caress. His hands moved and wove a complicated pattern of touches from finger and wrist that danced across her nerves from the distance between them. Slowly they moved closer, the people between stepping aside as if they were dream players on a stage, leaving the two lead characters alone in the midst of the crowd. No more than two steps apart, they formed an island in the center of the floor, lost in the beat of their heart’s music, blood calling to blood. They continued to dance, moving more quickly, matching the frenzied pace of those around them. Arms intertwined without touching. Hips matched sway and swing. Two forms in perfect harmony, they danced, finding in each other the equal for their desires. Heat called to heat, blood to blood. They were balanced.

Rondo: The final movement;

theme stated three times in the same key, with subordinate themes

Still untouched by the other, they stepped through the crowd. The wave of their passing drew laughter from the supporting actors of their play as fragments of emotion were transferred to passing bodies. What had been a dance of music became a dance of body against body as people fell together throughout the room, deep in the grip of passion. By the time the two reached the doorway to the outside, the room was a mad eruption of sensuality and sex, an orgy of lust released into the air, drawn into the blood. They closed the door behind them, focused on each other, ignoring the conflagration erupting so close as they touched for the first time.

A tentative touch, fingers on fingers, they slid closer together, moving along hand, wrist and arm until they were in full embrace. His cheek moved along the side of her face, his hot breath battling the cold of the night. Her lips drew a line along his jaw, tracing the path of his blood beneath the skin. They moved together into the darkness, holding close and moving with measured steps. Finally, deep in the shadows of the street, they looked for a moment deep into each other’s eyes, poised for the final note of the music. Slowly, sensually, they slid their lips down the side of each other’s neck. With exquisite care, they kissed the skin, tasting the salt sweat of their desire. A crescendo of passion poured from blood to blood as they leaned forward, each setting lips to neck, and they pierced the skin with glistening fangs. Blood poured out, mixed together and was drawn back within, as they mated in a bonding as old as the darkness that surrounded them.

Echoes rose from the surrounding buildings, sensual and frantic as body reached for body throughout the city. Emotion fanned out, carried on a wind of desire, touched down from time to time, to bring a flow of passion to the earth, then returned again to the source. Drawn once more into the pair, now intertwined in a dance of hot emotion, the crescendo exploded, an eruption of flame that rose into the night in a flowing form that grew wide wings of flame as two bodies become one and the phoenix rose once again into the darkness.

And then the night was silent once more.

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