Screw that. I’m dancing.


The music comes louder, and my feet start to dance. Not like I used to, not as fluidly or as gracefully. In fact, if anyone from high school saw me, they wouldn’t believe I’m the same girl. Screw that. I’m dancing.
 Jason sweeps me into his arms, twirling me along the sidewalk with a delighted grin on his lips. A few people stare. I guess they’re not used to giggling newlyweds fake-waltzing through sprinklers and into bushes and almost falling into the street.
I really don’t care.
I’m finally alive.
 — from my current WIP

2 thoughts on “Screw that. I’m dancing.

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