Tap

Tap, she said, tap-tap-tap. Dance, she said, dance-dance-dance. And the fingers moved, and the tapping did sound, on the hardwood of the table she sat before. Tap they sounded, tap-tap-tap. And the repetition did her mind well. What else is there to say? What else is there to do, but to listen to the listless tap-tap-tap. Confused they were, as they watched with fear. Such emptiness they saw in her eyes unmoving. Only the tap-tap-tap they could hear, not the music her mind created. Crazy perhaps, they speculated. Upset and in a zone of her own? But, the fantasy that was her reality is the mysterious tap-tap-tap they will never know.