After a long car ride, it’s hard to sleep, my body still hurtling through space. After a train journey, my bones keep jostling for a day. It’s getting like that with the dancing, the movement continuing after the dancing stops. Step step triple-step triple-step. Step step triple-step triple-step. I am lying in bed, but my body is turning under a man’s arm. I am sitting in front of the computer, but my right foot is rock-stepping. I am waiting for the next move. We’ve finished three months of dance lessons and it’s starting to click. On Saturday night on the dance floor we felt like we knew what we were doing. And so Sunday afternoon we’re back at the studio, learning a new pattern. Outside, March enters gray and cold, but the redbuds show off their new blooms.