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Kulturschock! [3]

Ytte Skovlund's picture
Submission type:



“Upps!” Hyle pulled the hem of her skirt down as she made herself comfortable in the seat of the car. “Absolutely not made for driving!” She grinned.


“You are not…. Umm..” Ytte pointed out.

“I showered.” Hyle smirked as she started the motor. Ytte’s fingers dug into the armrest again as Hyle steered the car towards The Waffelhus. Ytte felt butterflies in her stomach but it was not all about Hyle’s driving, She felt excited, the thrill made her nervous, slightly apprehensive about what she should expect. She looked over at Hyle who was trying her best to keep her knees together while at the same time operating the pedals of the car. The hem of her tiny skirt rode up again. Ytte looked out of the passenger window smiling to herself. ‘Definatly not wearing any.’


Hyle parked the car at the side of The Waffelhus and gracefully exited, knees together.Ytte got out her side a little less gracefully, trying to recall ever wearing such tight pants before. She had not. She stood beside Hyle and Hyle linked arms with her as they walked through the small crowd which had already gathered. Hyle stopped here and there welcoming people and introducing Ytte.


“Umm Hyle?” Ytte asked. “Where is the orchestra?”

“What?” Hyle looked puzzled.

“You said there was music and dancing.”

“Ohhh!” Hyle beamed a smile. She tapped the tops of two black cases which were each side of the Waffelhus porch. “They are hidden in here!”


Nonplussed. Ytte watched as Hytle plugged wires from the boxes into a black rectangular case with a row of knobs on the front. Hyle pressed a button and…..


“Sweet Jesus!!!” Ytte exclaimed and covered her ears. Hyle laughed. Around her the crowd clapped and some began swaying to the music. Bonfires had been erected and were now lit.


“The orchestra!” Hyle exclaimed. “Theis! Make sure no-one goes thirsty.” She called. Theis appeared and handed Ytte and Hyle each a glass well filled with whisky. Ytte took a healthy sip, more to settle her nerves than anything. She coughed, The amber liquid was smooth, but boy did it feel warm on the way down.


“Come on !” Hyle grabbed Ytte by the hand and dragged her into the slowly growing crowd between the bonfires and the porch. Ytte let herself once again follow in Hyle’s wake. Hyle turned to face Ytte and started swaying to the music.


Now Ytte had learned to dance. Polka, waltz, gavotte. But watching Hyle sway sensuously to the pounding beat. Ytte felt suddenly very awkward. Any confidence she had in her dancing abilities evaporated to the heavy drum beat and rhythm and the unseen singer extorting ‘Let there be rock!’

The music was not gentle, it was driving, a four-four hammer blow to Ytte’s senses. She dried her glass, which Theis appeared from nowhere to collect from her hand. Ytte stiffly started to sway to the beat. Hyle smiled encouragingly.


Ytte studied Hyle and the other girls moving, noting the moves they made and gradually adding them to her repertoire, trying her best to keep up because it seemed as each new song started the dancing grew in intensity. The crowd was growing to. The dancers were mostly female and the men lounged on the porch or talked in groups around the dancing area. Ytte felt a little conspicuous and self-conscious, but she watched Hyle. Hyle didn’t seem to care what anyone thought. That gave Ytte a little self confidence.


Theis put another drink into Ytte’s hand. Ytte drank it. It helped. The music was seeping into Ytte’s senses. The cacophonous deluge had assaulted her at first but now she could untangle what she was hearing. Drums, cymbals. Guitars? But not like she had ever heard before. Occasionally she recognised violin or piano found herself smiling, it was good. She let the rhythm guide her, the singers voices or solo guitar added colours to her mind. All the while Hyle danced. And how she could dance, Ytte thought. She seemed abandoned to the music, her body an extension to what she was hearing. Beautiful, even compared to dancers at the ballet.


Ytte learned, and soon she felt more confident, there was more fluidity in her dancing to the point where she was enjoying herself. A lot.


Later, Ytte was resting at the side when Hyle appeared with two girls. One was dressed in nothing but purple, even her hair was purple. The other wore a red ensemble, short skirt and a corset and the most outrageous boots. Her hair was shaved to each side and plaited down her back. Hyle made the introductions


“Ytte! Here is Veronica, we call her VV. And this is Silja.” Hyle handed each of them another glass of whisky and the conversation ensued, but Ytte politely kept to the periphery. VV seemed a very serious young lady, but pleasant enough. Ytte detected a German accent. Conversely she had not a clue what Silja’s accent was about, she had difficulty following what she was saying. Ytte smiled and nodded or laughed in what seemed like the appropriate places.


“Ohhh! Free Bird!” Hyle shrilled. “We must dance this!” She grabbed Ytte’s hand and the group took a space on the ‘dance floor.’


The tune seemed like a slow ballad. Ytte felt confident even though the whisky was beginning to affect her legs. It was a nice tune, Ytte relaxed into the dance, even closed her eyes and swayed along. She didn’t notice how the tempo slowly increased, and increased, and increased some more. How it became more intense, strident, She just let herself be carried along. More accurately, carried away.


Nine minutes and one second later.


Ytte let the song fade away into its ending and finally stopped dancing. Then she began to notice things. VV’s mouth was wide open. Several people were clapping, several more mouths were open, Silja came over and ‘high-fived’ Ytte, who reciprocated without even knowing what a high five was. Hyle was clapping enthusiastically, whooping, congratulating.


“Wow, that was amazing!” Hyle hugged Ytte tightly.


Ytte smiled a little, then grinned wide. Then she laughed, and laughed more. She felt amazing.










Joe Spivey's picture

((Glorious! You guys should start an all girl group.

Stick with me kid and you'll be farting through silk.

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