They danced with toothbrushes, half orange, half blue, with a green one thrown in for some odd reason. Everyday, their formations would change, as if something of great consequence would be decided by how the toothbrushes were placed. Perhaps something of great importance truly *was* being decided. How were we to know? But it seemed they were happier when they took their dancing less seriously, and unhappier when it seemed important to them for some reason.
When the formations changed, we could never tell if it was coordinated movement, or attempts to force movement upon one another, as if competing for territory and battling for the expression of some particular set of ideas. Sometimes a toothbrush would be flung far and away from the rest, laying inert, perhaps representing loneliness or ostracism, perhaps representing someone freed from the confines of society and conventional thinking. Other times, toothbrushes switched sides in rapid succession, perhaps to alleviate boredom, or to represent inherent change in the chaos of our world.
Besides the toothbrushes, knives and razors also made the occasional appearance. We weren't quite sure what they represented, but their appearance was always accompanied with a touch of tension - which isn't to say there wasn't tension when toothbrushes switched sides or formations. Apprehension is what you make of it I guess. Read too much into what they were doing, and you may see all sorts of things that weren't really there, or maybe just things the dancers wouldn't admit to.
It was somewhat welcome when the isolated toothbrushes rejoined the fold, but on the other hand, what if it just represented imprisonment and the death of their freedom? I suppose we were just reading tea leaves at that point and should've just enjoyed the show for what it was, or at least reminded ourselves that conjectures about their motivations were merely our own conjectures.
Maybe what we really need to do was talk to the dancers at the end, if only there was an end.