Free Flash Fiction: Dance Hall Days in the Lone Star State

One of my favorite classes from the Blue Ridge Mountains Christian Writers Conference this year was the continuing course practicum Keep It Short! How to Write Flash Fiction. Hope Welborn with Spark Flash Fiction shared a wealth of wisdom and kept the class fun and engaging over all four days. I’ve really gotten into writing flash fiction as a way to discipline myself to write more often and actually complete projects while I shake cobwebs off my creativity.

Hope reminded us that story ideas are everywhere. She suggested photos and songs as two sources of inspiration for stories. As a music lover, I immediately began brainstorming songs that could make for a sweet short, short story. The following piece is inspired by a favorite George Strait song. Can you guess which one? Let me know what you think!

Dance Hall Days in the Lone Star State

The handsome stranger strode toward Charley with purpose, bottled beer in hand. Long, denim-clad legs, worn boots, a tucked plaid shirt, and classic cattleman hat atop dark hair hinted at bona fide cowboy. His drawl and manners all but confirmed it. “Excuse me, ma’am, but I believe you’re in my seat.”

Her brows shot up. “Oh, gosh, I’m sorry. I didn’t realize this table was taken.” She stood slowly and glanced around. The dance hall was packed, and she thought she’d gotten lucky finding the open table when she came in moments ago.

“It’s alright. Why don’t you stay? I’d be happy to share the table.” His friendly smile revealed straight white teeth that glowed under the neon lights of the bar. He seemed to sense her hesitation and inclined his head toward the table. “Please, I insist. It’ll only get more crowded as the night goes on. The band tonight is great.”

Charley prided herself on her reliable intuition, and her gut told her this was a nice man, albeit maybe a tad too good-looking. She relaxed her shoulders, slid to the next chair and sunk into it. “Okay, thank you. You’re sure you don’t mind?”

“Not at all.” He settled into his own chair and turned light eyes on her. “Can I drink you a buy?” He chuckled and shook his head. She bet she’d see color on his cheeks if the lighting were better. “Shoot, listen to me. I meant, may I buy you a drink?”

Stifling a giggle, Charley nodded and gestured to the bottle in his hand. “Yes, thank you. I’d like one of those.”

He flagged down a waitress and placed the order. Turning his attention back to her, his eyes widened, and he splayed a hand across his chest. “Forgive me. I’m Boone.” He flashed a sheepish grin. Whoa, were those dimples?

Butterflies invaded her belly, and she returned his smile. “I’m Charlotte but you can call me Charley.” She took the hand he now held out and shook it. Tingles moved up her arm.

“So, Charley, are you meeting someone?”

“I was supposed to meet a friend, but I saw her text after I parked that she had a headache and was bailing. I decided to go ahead and come on in because I was excited for some live music. What about you?”

His eyes – blue, she decided – bore into hers. “No, I’m also here solo. I’m glad you came inside anyway.”

The server delivered Charley’s beer, popping the top off before setting the bottle down. Charley took a long pull and savored the smoky nuttiness bubbling over her tongue.

“Delicious. Thanks again, Boone.” She returned her eyes to his and attraction zinged between them. “You seem very at home here. I’m thinking you’ve you been before?”

He chuckled again in that adorable aw-shucks way. “Yes, many times. This place is legendary for their talent, both up-and-comers and established stars. It’s one of the best places in town to hear live music, especially if you like to dance. How ‘bout you?”

Charley found Boone’s down-to-earth demeanor sweet. “It’s my first time. I moved to Austin last fall for work. I love the city so far and have enjoyed checking out restaurants, parks, and occasionally going to hear live music with my new work friends.”

Their easy conversation continued, and Charley felt tension building between them. Boone was gorgeous, but also humble and real. He was engaging, but it wasn’t all charm; he clearly had a brain inside that beautiful head of his. He ran his family’s ranch outside of Austin and shared how he had coaxed his father into adopting the latest technology to help manage their ranch more efficiently. He was interested in getting to know her too, asking questions about her hometown, her family and the job that brought her to Austin.

“Would you like to dance, Charley?” He gave her a shy smile.

“Yes, I would like that very much.”

Boone took Charley’s hand and steered her to the crowded dance floor, navigating them into a small gap between other dancers. He pulled her closer and placed his free hand on her back, guiding them to the rhythm. They moved as if they had been dancing together forever, her body intuitively following his lead. For two complete sets by the band, they laughed, talked, and sang along to songs they knew. They danced country swing to fast songs and two-stepped or waltzed to slower tunes. Charley felt so free with Boone. When he finally led her off the dance floor, she was tired but the adrenaline from being in his arms had her flying high.

“Charley, I want you to know this is not my usual MO. I come here to listen to music, and I may sometimes share a dance with a few ladies, but I don’t hit on or pick up women. It’s you. I like you. I know it’s getting late, but I’m not ready to stop spending time with you. What do you say to a late-night meal or even just coffee? There are a few places near here still open this time of night.”

“Boone, I feel the same way. This is out of character for me too, but I feel drawn to you. I would love to keep our time together going.”

“Do you have a preference where we go? And are you open to riding with me? I can bring you back to your car later.”

“Yes, I’ll ride with you. I don’t care where, as long as I’m with you.”

Boone held her gaze a moment longer then leaned over, his lips close to her ear. “Charley, I have a confession to make.”

She drew back to see his face. “What’s that?”

“That wasn’t really my chair.” His intense eyes showed a hint of trepidation that she might change her mind at his admission.

Laughter escaped as Charley laid a hand on his cheek. “I know, Boone.”