Thunder dances across the darkened sky, rumbling like drums as it rolls toe to heel. Lightening flashes with disco flares making the coming storm frightening and unreal. I stand, face uplifted, breathless in its approach; gown of glittering blue pale and torn in places. Would a galant ask me to dance when my heart is so cold and full of such disgrace? Give me a flower to stick within my hair, give me a bit of lace to bind my broken spirit. For I long to enjoy life’s walz if only one would give me reason to not fear it. (c) Jayne Waggoner
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