The Dancing Man

by Steven Winters

As the crowd silently watch the man dance on the branch, a small boy mumbles to his father, “He’s a sinner, ain’t he, Pa?” The father latches onto his son’s shoulder with a calloused hand. They watch as the man’s tapping foot falters.

After a while, he looks down at the boy, “It ain’t a sin to exist, Son. It’s what you do with yourself that makes you a sinner or a saint.” With a gentle nudge, they make their way out of the small crowd huddled around the hanging tree as the dancer is cut down. 

STEVEN WINTERS is currently working towards a dual degree in Creative Writing and Molecular and Cellular Microbial Biology at Auburn University. His most recent works have appeared in Apocrypha and Abstractions and Linguistic Erosion. When he is not writing late into the evenings, he can be found fishing at the nearest pond or puddle.