Molly spun in circles, her arms up above her head. Her bohemian skirt billowed out where it didn't slap flutteringly against the legs of other listeners. Her red hair floated around her with its own form of abandon.
The fact that the music could be felt was great. Not the feel of the heart, or the emotions that moved you, but the rhythm pounding through your viscera, the solid presence of it more vital than simply something to listen it.
Molly had always had eclectic tastes. She could dance a Celtic jig and love the old music, or bang her head along with Disturbed. She also enjoyed some opera and she adored musical theater. Music was another experience to be immersed in.
The room began to sway a bit as she spun round, her hips gyrating in time to the back beat. She closed her eyes against the sway as she just let herself be lost in the rhythm, the feel, the thrum. Let everything wash away but the heavy air of the moment.
It worked well, until she spun right into someone else. Her eyes flew open as her front hit against flesh and bone and her legs gave way as she registered a pair of big, surprised, brown eyes before the floor jumped up and smacked her bottom.