"Wura! Wura!"
Wura scrunched up her face inside her hut as she heard heavy footfalls of her friend, Kikelomo, running towards her hut. Something must be happening or urgent for the silly girl to call out her name like that. Apart from the superstition that names of the young maidens are not to be screamed aloud close to the Iyana river, Wura was always weary when anyone called out her name from afar.
She stood up from her wooden stool, dropped the raffin basket she was weaving and stepped out to meet Kikelomo who approached the hut excitedly.
"Ha! Kike, why do you scream my name so? You know how I feel about that!"
Kike stopped in front of Wura, her chest heaving as she struggled to catch her breath. She burst into laughter and waved her hand.
"Do not be alarmed ore mi! We are very far from the river."
"Still…"
"Haven't you heard the latest?" Kike quickly chipped in before Wura goes into a long speech about superstitions. "Can you hear the drum beats and singing?"
Both young girls stayed quiet as distant Gangan and Iya Ilu local drum beats filtered into the air with some singing.
"Yes, I can hear it. What's happening?"
"It's the Oba's, second son, Adegoke. He visited Baba Shebiotimo and asked for Lola's hand in marriage. It's been sealed. The silly fool is excited that royalty came for his daughter. He can't seem to stop dancing."
"Is that like a pre-wedding party or what now?" Wura asked.
"I think so! It seems he has caught the dance fever and won't stop dancing!"
Wura chuckled. "I don't want to imagine him dancing with his protruded belly!"
Both girls bursted into laughter at the joke, holding each other's hands.
I hope you enjoyed reading my piece. This short story is a five-minute freewrite inspired by the prompt "dance fever". Join 
