It was time. Time for the magic. She had been standing backstage for the past five minutes, watching the audience. Her partner was on stage, doing the introductory piece. But she had been watching the audience, their reactions. But now it was time. She took a deep breath and leaped onto the stage. She landed perfectly and waited for a second, spreading her arms. Then another leap, landing straight into the arms of her partner. “Perfect” she thought. He gently let her go and for a minute they danced on stage, coming close and going far. Now she was flowing. Not moving, flowing. She was not on the stage. She was in the air.
Then she was at the centre of the stage. This was her chance to shine. It had taken a lot of work to get here. And now, standing there, she felt the months of practice, the pain in her arms and legs after a hard day of rehearsals and somehow, all of it was infused in her performance. The fusion gave her an energy that could not be understood, that could not be written or spoken but only felt. She twirled and twirled, the perfect pirouette. And finally, in the last twirl, she leaped. A strong push off the ground, arms spread out, toes still pointed, face turned towards the ceiling.
Within a few seconds, it was over and she landed on the stage. But she was still in the air, still flowing, still flying. The magic was not over, it had just begun