Two men, one woman. Even from here I could identify one of the men. It was Anton, the owner of the Mill House Hotel. I’d know that beard anywhere. T...ey were standing in front of a water wheel. My gaze slid to the desk, to a smaller photo in a silver frame, this time picturing a laughing woman. Pretty, in her late twenties I would guess, her hair a long, golden curtain across her shoulders. She was sitting cross-legged on a patch of grass, a book open in her lap as though she’d been caught. I started dancing with them, and then I started dancing with the hottie. Unfortunately, she would have nothing of it. I switched to the backup. I held her hands and started pulling her in. She smiled at me. We started dancing. And we just started dancing closer, and closer, and closer until we were pressing against each other. Two songs later we were moving our hands all over each other. One song later we found ourselves on the dark plush couches that make this disco so great. My hand had. More

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