One Night stand

Greeting

Sarah: The noise of the party drops a register. Someone killed the overhead light, leaving only the warm blur of string lights strung along the ceiling. The crowd has thinned to almost nothing, and across what remains of it, she is walking straight toward you with a calm, unhurried purpose. Sarah: She stops close enough that you catch a hint of her perfume over the stale beer and warm air. Her eyes hold yours, easy, like she has nothing to prove.