moving through air

I was one of four performers playing to a large crowd of people in a vast auditorium. The audience was arranged around the stage, looking down on us - some sitting, some standing. The performers were paired. My partner gripped my hands and spun me around in a circle so that I was flying through the air, almost vertically. I could see the other pair similarly moving, one partner anchored to the ground, spinning the other partner around and around, and, as she flew through the air, she stretched, arched and moved her body, creating a beautiful aerial dance. The other performers were all wearing blue leotards with sequins, appropriately dressed for the show. It seemed I was unprepared and unrehearsed for, as I spun around, I realised that I was wearing a flannelette shirt, grey tracksuit pants and ugg boots and I did not know the choreography. Suddenly, the other pair left the stage, leaving us alone. All eyes were upon us and I needed to do something worthy of watching. I began to move my legs and arch my back, feeling muscles that have long been unused, remembering steps from early dancing days. Though I felt stiff, ill-attired and put on the spot, I danced through the air and, as I spun, my body felt fluid, grew lithe, moved effortlessly.