After her first encounter with the balfolk, Dahlia found herself being drawn further into this weird and marvelous world. Suddenly, she couldn’t wait for work to be done; almost all her weekends were filled with possibilities: there were stages, festivals and concerts; she was introduced to a whole new vocabulary with words like ‘klandestina’, ‘skeggia’, ‘stage’. She was also learning to be a little more open. At first it had felt weird to dance so close to another person, someone she had just met, but slowly she was coming to cherish embracing new people.

Humming to herself, subtly practising the steps to a new dance she had learnt, she felt like she had a secret life that noone around her in the dreary office could even imagine. And that is how David found her in the break room, swaying weirdly with an insane grin on her face. “Alright there Dahlia?”, he startled her and she was left with one foot in the air and another on the floor and a decidely sheepish look on her face. “Um. Hi! Yeah! Everything is great!” “What were you doing?”, he asked curiously. “Actually,  you know, you’ve been acting damn strange lately. You sure you are okay?” Looking at David’s concerned expression Dahlia felt a little guilty not sharing her secret with her friend. “Yes, yes I’m good. Great, in fact! I was actually dancing. That’s what I have been doing these days, dancing.” “Dancing?” he asked puzzled, “you mean you go clubbing?” “No! No! No! It is not that kind of dancing. It’s called balfolk. It is traditional dances, mainly french but there dances from all over Europe…it’s got a little bit of ballroom dancing, a bit of group dances, its well a little hard to explain. You should come with me next time!” “I don’t DANCE!” declared David with a shudder. “If you can walk, you can dance”, insisted Dahlia, “it really is a lot of fun you know. You will like it and what’s the harm in trying it out once?”

It took a little more persuading, and a promise of a muffin basket– David was a sucker for muffin baskets, or any basket with food in it really– but finally Dahlia convinced him to join her for the ‘skeggia’ that night. David kept dragging his feet convinced that he would make a fool of himself. When they arrived there were already a few people who were starting a ‘circolo’, “Come David, this is an easy one you will figure it out immediately.” “What? Wait! I wanted to watch them first”, “You learn dance dancing Dave! Come”. And off he too was drawn into this whirlwind of music and dances. 

The clock was chiming two when the evening finally came to a close. “I can’t believe it is so late! I dont feel like we danced for that long!” David mused, his hair plastered to his head with sweat, his cheeks rosy and his eyes filled with laughter. “I told you would like it!” exclaimed Dahlia. “Isn’t it wonderful?!” “It is rather fun”, agreed David “and even I can do it!” he continued in a tone of surprise. “You still owe me the muffin basket though!”he warned, “Don’t worry I wouldn’t dream of depriving you of muffins!” Dahlia teased. As they were strolling back in companiable silence replaying the evening in their heads, David suddenly turns to Dahlia with a confused look on his face and asks, “Dah, what’s a mazurka lemon?”