They circle the rink once and then twice. She had her hand tucked up in his arm and she began to trust the feeling. Their breath formed small white clouds around their faces.
"I used to come skating with my mum and dad," She said, "when I was really little."
David took her hand and spun out in front so he was facing her. "Close your eyes," he said.
"Go on. Close 'em. Let me lead you. Trust me, I won't let you fall"
And so she did, she held his hands and he skated backwards and drew her around the ice. She tipped her head back and let the cold wind hit her face and the darkness invade her body completely. She felt as if she were flying like a night bird over the clouds. She felt the subtle shift from foot to foot, the roll and dance of this movement, the sturdy heaviness of his hands beneath her weight. He pulled her in a circle, and the noise of the other skaters faded into the background. She kept her eyes closed and it felt as though what was inside was bigger than what was outside, like a crust of something thin and silvery, crisp with cold, covered with a vast landscape of star-filled dark inside her. The only thing that connected her to the ground was the slim blade under her feet and the solid flesh at the point where she ended and David began.
David watched her face intently, felt her muscles relax under his touch. He let go of the breath he'd been holding when he saw the frown disappear from her forehead and the smile come to her lips. He smile himself then, and knew that he had taught her the wonder of letting go. For just a moment he gave her the gift of unburdened lightness. '