“It’s like we’re dead!”
I guess I got excited and said that out loud before I thought about how it might sound to his high school friend and her boring banker boyfriend.
But on the roof, city behind us, looking through a skylight, at this particularly angled view of the dance floor inside. . .
“Ha. Yeah,” I should have known my boy would get it. And he tries to explain it to their wrinkled foreheads and gaping lips. He’s unsuccessful, but I’m thankful he saved me from having to try.
We point them in the direction of the spot we found to have a Moment before we head back inside.
It’s still winter, after all.