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Watching

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The girl sits in the corner. Crouched, sheathed in shadows. Watching. Listening. Silent. The people move about her. Talking. Chatting. Laughing. A gathering? A meeting? A party! The girl doesn't know and no outward sign informs her but she is content to sit and watch the swirl of sassy association. And eventually, one by one, two by two, or in great gaggleing groups, the people decamp, disappear, depart, until the last one, shouting "Wait ! Wait !", shuts off the lights and slams the door. Silence. Darkness. Stillness. Then the girl moves, stands, shedding shadow as she rises and enters the empty space like a sleek yacht splitting spuming seas. A pause in the center of the echoing arena, a space viewing spin, a head thrown back, the arms thrown out, a great giggly guffaw of glee erupts and departs. And then a sound! A squeak? A shuffle? No, a shadow. And other corners birth shadows. People? Creatures? Friends? No, just shadows as she is shadow. And silently, smoothly, serenely, the shadows congregate, co-mingle, coalesce. And swirl. Twirl. Longing eyes seeking, yearning arms reaching, begging mouths imploring. As a ghostly orchestra plays, no sound. Just swirling shadows in the dark, silent night.