
Her spirit was the wrong shape: she never quite managed to squeeze it into the puzzle of her world, where she never belonged–never fit. She looked fine, sure, even pretty in all that diffuse light at royal dances, under fiery…
So the last time I went to a swing dance event, it ended with my ex lounging like a lord in the corner of a dance hall with ladies lounging all around him like coily pretties. Like seriously. And me…
This past Thursday evening I took a random six-hour round-trip bus (three hours there, three back) to dance swing for three hours in Brno, Czech Republic. I discovered that, nope, I can’t dance it for sh*t, but I still try!…