— Look. It’s moving. — You pointed.

  From the ball came the hum of wires, and a display appeared on its surface, recording the BPM of the steps of the newly arrived. There was no music.

  And it wasn’t needed for the dance floor covered with a thin layer of dust!

  I squatted and ran my hand across it, and the dust softly chimed, imitating a xylophone, bells, and many other sounds. At times it rose into the air and assembled itself into the outlines of long-vanished bodies. Then it settled again.

  — Curtains. Behind them — surely doors. — You decided to guess and approached first, pulling the fabric aside. Behind the doors there was surely nothing, and no exit was provided from here.

  — The third door leads into one’s own echo and freezes there at a single point. — I shared. — And then it deafens. Listen.

  You honestly tried, but couldn’t. So he raised his head, looking at the disco ball and silently asking it for help. The object responded with pleasure, spinning and whistling. Two beams shot out of it, smearing across the floor and beginning to shuffle rapidly, assembling the necessary features like a construction set.

  One of the beams lingered, when already Bright I was ready and, theatrically running up on tiptoe, extended a hand to her future dance partner. She knelt on one knee and placed the offered hand on her head. The head, too, began to softly shimmer. After that they clasped hands and rushed to the center of the dance floor, beginning the very thing they had gathered here for.

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  Their music was Silence, and it set the overall tempo and rhythm. The mood was created by the dancers themselves, who changed styles and blazed, absorbing all the light of the delicate disco ball.

  You could hardly wait to join them, and as soon as Bright You finished his pubescent period, becoming what he was meant to be — he grabbed his partner by the shoulder.

  Perhaps too roughly. He shouldn’t have done that, because Bright You only got more excited and began pulling off such moves that You’s inner sinews started to spin. The challenge had to be accepted, otherwise Silence would have been deeply upset. And You could not fail to demonstrate his superiority to her, understanding that she did not exist — just like he himself did not.

  And so it turned out that the pair consisting of I and Bright I rotated decorously and unhurriedly slightly to the side, while the second pair unleashed insane dances that needed no music, because it was already sounding. Somewhere.

  Unable to withstand the surging passion, Bright You jumped straight onto his partner’s torso, wrapping his legs around him. The one below caught him, and they merged in a hot kiss, releasing exothermic chemical reactions akin to oxidation and everything that happens during diligent friction.

  The temperature began to drop, though it violently protested against this. It wanted, on the contrary, to rise! I and Bright I, watching the dancers’ efforts, sat down on the dance floor. They squeezed each other’s outstretched hands, enjoying the absence of meaning.

  Thump-thump-thump. — the disco ball hummed, imitating hi-hats and a bass drum. — Bang-bang-bang. Unable to withstand the surge of inspiration, it shot upward and punched through the ceiling, knocking from below. The ceiling itself obligingly formed a hole matching the parameters and released the club’s only owner, who had never really been one.

  The ball simply flew away.

  And Bright You and Bright I did not grow sad. Not at all. They merely moved away from their partners and dozed off. Until the next manifestation of Silence, which had evaporated for now.