Memories of a Dancing Girl

I don’t know if I was happy. I don’t really understand what happiness means. Something unobtainable maybe. But I have memories that make me smile, little things, often unnoticed. Most of my life I was self-employed. I’ve noticed saying that can lead to suspicion. Something must be broken if you don’t work for the machine, be careful! Anyway, I always has a number in my head. The number covered everything for the month; rent, running costs, etc. And when I would hit that number I would come back to our little ramshackle house and play AC/DC Back in Black, cos we were back in black. Everybody paid. The rest of the month was play money. My girl would hear Back in Black and appear, dressed to the nines, and it wouldn’t matter what night it was, we’d treat it like Saturday night, and I’d take her dancing. We never had any long term plans apart from being together. We never worried about getting ahead or on ladders. We were quite content with our little life. My girl got taken dancing, and by then, I didn’t need a second job anymore. In fact, if you had asked us, we wouldn’t have thought any of lives to be little. We were wealthy! We had love, friendship and breathing space. With the rent paid, what more do you need? I look back on her dancing, and I think, there were some good times too.

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