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A swoosh of her skirts, and that was all she needed to control the room. Color me jealous. Her dark eyes danced a tango when they met mine, sparkling in their cat’s eye liner. A shared secret smirk made my heart skip. What was my witchy friend about to do to these men?
I shouldn’t have cried on her shoulder last night. I really shouldn’t have.
(words 66; first published May 30, 2022 – from a picture prompt for a Facebook writing group. Aim is about 50 words.)