David Seymour

When Returning a Gift is its own Gift (Part III: The Last Dance)

(Continued from Part II)

I didn’t know it at the time, but today would be the last time I wore the dress. It had been pouring rain all day, but miraculously it stopped and the sun came out just before our Jazz Festival show. Puddles were everywhere, but the sun sparkled in them all, casting flirty jewels of light all around the outdoor venue. Held in an outdoor garden center with statuary, fountains and trees full of fairy lights, the scene was set for a magical early evening performance.
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