This light-shouldered boy could jitterbug, old style, and would; he was more precious than gold, yea, than much fine gold. We jitterbugged...Only the strenth in our fingertips kept us alive. If they weakened or slipped, his fingertips or mine, we'd fall spinning backward across the length of the room and out through the glass French doors to the snowy terrace, and if we were any good we'd make sure we fell on the downbeat, snow or no snow.
In the narrative, the author describes a vivid memory of dancing, highlighting the connection and intimacy shared through the art of jitterbugging. The boy, characterized by his light frame, becomes a treasure to the author, symbolizing the joy and importance of their shared experience. The dance not only represents a carefree moment in their youth but also a bond that is precious and lasting.
The passage emphasizes the fragility of their dance, where the strength held in their fingertips becomes crucial to maintaining their balance and connection. If either dancer were to falter, they risked tumbling through the French doors to the snowy terrace, serving as a metaphor for the delicate balance of youth and spontaneity. The essence of their dance reflects the thrill and danger inherent in living fully, even in the face of possible disaster.
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