He twirled her around.

He guided her through an intricate dance, feet intertwining, hands together, their bodies in motion around each other, hardly ever touching.

And yet, when she did touch, what a wonderful thrill coursed through his body! A static shock of love and emotion! Oh, the feeling!

They danced, the pair of them, danced to a seemingly never-ending tune. They spun, swung, and stepped! Oh, how wonderful!

And then the music stopped, and she blinked out of existence, leaving him in the dank, dark emptiness in his mind.

The writer woke up to the smell of freshly ground coffee, a spot of drool on the empty page in front of him. Lady Inspiration had stopped dancing with him long ago.