I love it so much!
The dancers must dance close together. The follower--me--senses the leader's shifts in movement, mirroring his moves. The leader pushes me out, pulls me in, twirls me, dips me. I smile the entire time I dance. Sweat beads on my forehead and rolls down the small of my back as I kick and twist. I throw my head back and laugh every time my partners send me crashing into other dancers, every time I accidentally kick them, or they kick me. We go from kickstep to triple step to the Charleston to dances I don't know the names for, but just do. We shake hands at the end of every dance, telling each other our names, smiling, walking away to find a new partner. We share the wealth of dance. I try not to sit down, ever. I want to dance every song--slow and fast. I want to feel dreamy and light. The band plays, the horns bright then mournful, the singer's voice gritty and heavy, the guitar bouncy then soft. I hear echoes of the band as I fall asleep, remembering what it felt like to be held close in the frame of a man's solid arms.
I want to learn more. I want to do the lindy. I want to fly.