Vignette the Fifth

“May I have this dance?”

“Sure?”

I waveringly take his hand and he leads me to the living room, the only space big enough for twirling. He is clearly leading, and I clearly have no clue what to do. He coaches a little, critiques a little, and is essentially spinning me again and again. I feel amazed that I can do this in heels, ducking down over and over as our clasped hands are raised above my head. I think that it is charming that he offered to dance. It only lasts a couple of minutes, and everyone was watching. They applauded and I’m sure I blushed, wishing not to acknowledge the applause.

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