THE LAST FIRST DANCE

Outside, the world groans beneath an endless storm.

Inside, a cabin forgotten by time barely stands, lit only by the flickering glow of a candle.

Gerson stands in the middle of the mess, eyes lowered, trapped in an internal struggle that won’t let him rest or tell himself the day is over. That he can forget — even for a moment — the pain and fear.

Forget what he misses, what he loves.

Forget that it will only end if he decides to never open his eyes again.

With the strength of his hands, with a deep wound, with a sin that will condemn him to a punishment worse than death.

There is no explanation — only the silence of a soul remembering what wasn’t, and what will never be.

Then, it happens.

As if memory had defeated time.

As if love had cheated death.

A woman appears.

At this moment, “Oh My Angel” by Bertha Tillman begins to play. LINK_https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FL1Vf0pvkHw

She stands before him. We don’t know if she was part of his life, or just born of his pain.

Her gaze is gentle, and her smile holds the universe Gerson always longed for.

Without a word, she extends her hand.

Gerson takes it.

And they dance.

The music — perhaps only in his head, or maybe from another plane — plays like a song they saved just for this moment.

It echoes from some hidden corner of the soul.

The place transforms.

For a few seconds, they’re no longer in the cabin.

They’re in a warm-lit ballroom, surrounded by couples dancing beneath a starry night.

It’s a scene Gerson never lived, but always imagined.

She laughs. Gerson looks at her like the love that never was and now rests in his arms.

It’s the most beautiful moment of his life.

And then, time comes to take back what it loaned.

She begins to fade in his arms, like mist slipping through his fingers.

Gerson keeps dancing — as if she’s still with him.

A tear falls slowly from his eye.

Maybe he knows he’s alone.

But he follows the rhythm of the song, tilting his head slightly… as if to rest it on a shoulder that is no longer there.

Back in the cabin.

The candle still burns.

From outside, even through the pouring rain, he can be seen dancing — gently.

And Gerson is alone, the music fading softly into the echoes of a broken world.