Creamfields
Pumping. Thumping. Jumping. The sun shone on the fields and on the grass as Kirsten jumped and swung and swirled in the mass of other revelers at the festival. Around her the sounds of trance and house bounced and beat and thumped and pumped, as she and the others jumped and boogied and grooved and moved. Behind her and on both sides was a sea of dancers, absorbed like herself into the music, letting it take them where it wanted, interpreted by many different wavy hand motions and frantic...