NCS
I followed a path of glowsticks in a forest leading to a ruined building.
They were dancing in the mud, stains going up to their knees. The dj contorting, pressing colored keys on a plastic table.
Ears flooded with music; each beat, a flail of arms —beat, a jump — beat, a head shaking so strong I feel the neck could break — beat.
There were laughs, there were shouts and kisses and flashes and outfits.
We danced until the sun painted the room.