Tuesday, March 19, 2013
Brian anticipates the arrival of Spring with tonight's tie, its deep midnight field crossed by slim blushpink stripes. Her heart quickened as she realized he was walking directly toward her. Barricaded by guests and tables, she had no escape. Soon, he stood over her, hand extended. "Would you dance with me?" Her face flushed, but her table-mates would not hear of a refusal. In the end, she rose and walked out to the floor with him. She had not danced since she had come home, and her prosthetic still felt awkward and odd. But his chest felt familiar and comforting, and as she rested her hot cheek against his lapel, she could smell the rose in his boutonniere.
Brought to Life by Nance at 10:11 PM