I was twelve years old, and the year was 1988, when the Dancing Plague came to my town. It was the end of September. The long, hot days of summer were a thing of the past. The leaves on the trees were turning shades of red and yellow and ochre, and it was getting dark earlier and earlier. Nobody knew what to make of the individuals who broke out in manic, uncontrollable dancing…not at first, anyway. There were theories later on, and speculations; educated men and women attempting to jigsaw together the unexplainable, to force reason onto the unreasonable.
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