Feast Day

Round and about the meeting place they danced off-key and sang non-rhythmic songs. It was, in a way, atrocious to watch. He sat numbly across from all of it as a spectator, always a spectator. He'd been invited to join, but was reluctant to confess that he didn't even understand the motions. It seemed so natural for the rest of them; they don't even have to think about it. But he, he has to think about everything, as if he must concentrate to make his very breath respond. No ease at all, never at ease.
The dancing stopped and they all clapped. He imitated their motions and hated them for making him be a puppet like this. They smiled and he smiled and he made them self-concious without intending to.
He was soon forgotten and wandered away from the celebration ground toward the centre where everyone lived. He poked about in their private possessions for a bit, but none of it was very interesting. The lights were out and no one was around. He stole a girl's belonging with the intention of doing something perverse, then decided there wasn't any point and threw it in the lake instead. Watching it sink and bubble, he wanted to cry, but the dance was over and everyone was going home and he couldn't be found missing. So he smiled and they smiled and he laughed when he saw the girl.