She sang. Her beautiful voice rang out through the dense smoke in the room, pushing out into the ears, minds and hearts of the patrons. The band began to play, their music swinging through the air.
Feet began to tap, then arms started rising, and before they knew it - they were dancing, without a care in the world. Moving to and fro. Gliding across the floor. Sliding up and down. No one danced consistently. This was their show, they were going to perform how they wanted to.
A saxophone pierced through the rest of the instruments, blurting out a...
Swing. That was what we did every time we danced. We'd grab hands and swing each other around with all our might, laughing all the while. Everyone made sure to stay clear when we hit the floor. Once, he dropped me. It was unexpected, a fluke. We were swinging, like always, when, suddenly, he let go. All i felt beneath me was the cold hard floor. After that incident, we stopped swinging for a while. We'd get onto the dance floor, and everyone would run clear, but all we'd do was kinda sway and maybe do a little hip-hop. After...
Swing.
Pump your legs, stretch your shoulders back, breathe the joyful rush of air, and swing.
Lift your front leg, lean back, transfer your weight towards the ball, and swing.
Grab a partner, shake your hips, move your feet, and swing.
Mind your temper. Think back to happier days: swing sets and baseball games and high school dances.
Be calm. Forgive. Consider the consequences. And if that fails...
Say your prayers, keep your dignity, savour that final sensation of the rope around your neck, and...
swing.