Dance party at Megan's. Late, after everyone from the bbq had gone home. Somehow, we were all appropriately drunk and ready to dance in her kitchen. So we did. I took photos, some with flash, and some, like this one, without.
We danced, laughed, searched for better songs on her playlist. It was warm and comfortable and happy. Nothing was wrong. A few people had headlamps on their wrists and foreheads, making light trails through the dusk.
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