Passion For An Old Art Form - Tap.

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He strides into the room, relaxed, anticipated.
He can smell the floor - freshly varnished, see the mirrors - a few smudges, hear the absence of sound.. He can fix that.
Inhale, exhale. Inhale.. Exhale. Inhale...
Buh da pa da pa da Pa DA pa DA! Diggititat, dadadada ga Ba BA.
Echoes, only slight, surround the room.
He's skipping, sliding, ecstatic, adrenaline running high.
Baaa, da buuum. BaBaaa, da buuum.
This is is true element.
Metallic dust, impossible to see, flies around his feet, and he keeps going.
A child, unknown to him, gazes at him as he creates music with what he was born to this world with and fancy shoes.
DA! Pa pa pa pa Click! Gah. Bum, da. Bum bum da. Bum bum, bum bum da bum bum bum bum bum Da!
The child gazes in awe, jaw slightly dropped.
He smiles, starts laughing, still pounding in the floor.
The child joins him in laughter.
Bada bada da da bu da da da da da da ki-gat kigat. Badabadada ba da du da da du da kigat kigat.
The child looks at his own two feet and taps his toes as he plows on, eager to do what he loves.
Sweat is rolling down his face. The child taps his toes to the beat.
bap bap bap bap bap bap bap bap
Digada Digada Digada Digada Schooowap! Digada digada digada digada shooowhap!
The additional noise alerts him; he turns in surprise. The self-made music stops abruptly.
The child gazes at the now-still feet; an expression of amazement and disappointment flashes through its eyes.
He smiles, and tentatively holds out his hand.
The child runs to take hold of it, and the duet begins more formally.
bap bap bap bap bap bap bap bap
Dum dum dum dum dum dum dum BADUM!
Bap-bap, bap-bap, bap-bap, bap-bap
Sh-bap, Sh-bap, sh-bap, shh.





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