Dance

She never knew. Music was a thing to listen to, to sit on the couch and listen to. Quietly. Headphones on, well stuck where they belong. Drums and guitars are only for recording and voice is better for debating. Singing is like loving, never like debating. Unless you sing about a fight, then it becomes a protest. But she never thought about standing from the couch.
She believed in sitting in a chair and working her way through paper piles and clearing files and creating databases in excel. She made a mistake; when she slid those tiny plastic speakers in her ears, she knew she had been wrong all along.
She wanted to dance. Music fell in her veins like drops of tainted blood that little by little took over her; her hands couldn’t take it and began a beat on the desk, her feet wouldn’t handle it and began throbbing under the table, in high heels, even her mind began wondering about the next sound she would hear, the next 4 chord progression.
All the sudden, with out thinking about it or noticing, she stood up, ipod in one hand, white strings hanging from her head and the rest of her letting go free and dancing like never before. Her boss walked in the hall and like all her workmates, stood next to her, staring helplessly.
He took one look and nodded.
He fired her that same week.