Sweet November Nights

“Sweet November nights,” sang Billy Troll, on the front porch of his log cabin. “So dark, yet full of mystery. So soft, yet full of fun. Let’s dance under it’s lights.”

“I love that song,” said Dianne, coming onto the porch with a tray of hot coffee and freshly baked cookies.

“It is my new song,” said Billy. “I’m glad you like it.”

“It is really nice,” said Dianne. “And look at the sky. It is so beautiful tonight, isn’t it.”

“Yes,” said Billy. “It certainly is.”

Billy took Dianne’s hand and stood up and together they danced on their porch, while Billy sang the lyrics to his new song. They were so happy and content in that moment.

“You know,” said Dianne. “We haven’t danced in years.”

“You are right,” said Billy. “We haven’t. We’ll have to rectify that won’t we?”

“Yes,” said Dianne. “We will. I remember the last time we were dancing. It was when we went on vacation to Jamaica and we danced on the beach that night.”

Billy pulled something out of his pocket and handed it to Dianne.

“I think this will rectify our dancing issue,” said Billy, smiling from ear to ear.

“Oh Billy!” cried Dianne, when she saw to airplane tickets to Jamaica in the folder that Billy had just given to her.

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