The sweat slid down the side of my face and intermingled with the faint residue of Sauve hairspray. My bun high and tight as I gazed at my reflection floating across the room. The sheer black ballet skirt floated softly as my toes pounded the floor silently. My worn and supple pointe shoes like a second skin.
Dancing was like breathing. I had put in so many years of work into it that there were magical moments where I would loose myself in the music and no longer have to tell my muscles what to do. It was magic. Pure unadulterated magic. Continue reading “Just Keep Spinning: Peloton Dupe”
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