The Gesticulators

The Gesticulators stood in the centre of the room, a loose circle. There was always about two feet of free space to each of their sides: occasionally, the Gesticulating would get quite energetic, as it was now.
Each of The Gesticulators’ black jumper-ed arms spazzed and flailed with the intensity of a fish out of water, warping the air around their bodies into a blur. Some were even getting some foot action in.
Suddenly, a strobe light pulsed into action, rapidly illuminating and hiding The Gesticulators’ forms. Black plimsolls squeaked on the laminate flooring, dark torsos jiving.
A heart beat pummelled through the speakers around the room, growing ever faster in its beating until the pattern was lost and there was a constant thumping in the air.
The door opened and a middle aged woman carrying laundry stepped into the room… and stopped when she saw what was going on, dropping the towels.
‘’Oh, God! I’m sorry!’’, flinging hands up to her face to shield her eyes
Somebody cut the heart, another hit the lights.
Crowding round the woman The Gesticulators gasped in perfect unison and put a hand to each of their cheeks, making faces like: O.
The woman quickly left the room, closing the door shut behind her, her cheeks flushed red, like she had caught someone masturbating.