Broken bus, lost luggage, and M and I arrive Tango Loft in shorts and sandals, famished at 1230. They give us tomato soup and Riesling. HJ is waiting patiently for us, and I collapse into a chair next to him and have a look at the dance flora. What balm for the eyes, beautiful A and B smiling and flying.
The next hour makes my heart sing as I watch M and B, dance with all of them (even in sandals with these dancers I can trust). It was so indescribably beautiful and rich. With candles dripping, and smiles, and motion.