Rosalie, by Jennifer Canaveral

(F.F.F. Website Story)

She’s wearing the polka-dot dress tonight. Waves of Guinness splash over the brim of her glass and soak into my shoes but I don’t give a damn. She can shatter that pint over my head and I wouldn’t mind a bit. Just as long as I hear that laugh. Thin Lizzy comes over the speakers and I tremble because I know what happens next.

She’ll run outside to the middle of the empty street. She’ll dance in the moonlight, as her red heels click on the cobblestones. After I pluck the shards from my hair, I’ll ask to join her.

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