Tuesday, August 14, 2012
Annie and Cal were relieved to get home to their little bungalow, home for fifty years.
The anniversary party was a chore.
Too many old people. Too many balloons.
Too many sappy love ballads.
Fifty years didn't make them fuddy duddies.
Cal plugged the iPod into the dock and kicked up the volume. He threw his arms around Annie. She feigned coquetry, then tucked into his chest.
Stones, Elvis, Doors and more filled the tiny home.
The couple danced, jiggled, and giggled from living room to kitchen to porch, where they dropped, groping like teenagers, to the old wooden swing.