Stacey hopped on one foot.
‘Sorry.’ Kevin took a step back, his face flushed red.
‘You can count, right? I’m not marrying a complete idiot?’
‘I told you, I have two left feet.’
‘All you’ve got to do is count. One, two, three, four.’ Stacey moved in time to the music.
‘I’m doing that. It’s just that your feet are in the way.’
‘One dance. That’s all I’m asking for. The first dance.’
‘Can’t we just shuffle around? Last dance at the disco.’
‘It’s meant to be our special day, not a re-enactment of the day I sold my soul.’
A drabble is a story of exactly 100 words.