She sways with the unsteady grace of arthritis to the music that plays on in her head. The waltz is always the same one, they'd picked it together; she'd hoped they would dance it in black and white on their wedding day.
She looks over her shoulder, adjusts her feet to adapt to a neck that won't turn quite as far as it used to. She lifts her arms to enclose the man who is missing, who is missed.
In the dark shadows that hide cobwebs and wrinkles, she sways.