The app for independent voices

Promise versus Reality

He promised he’d watch my recital. Looking direct in my eyes, he said with a warm smile and soft voice, “I’ll be in the front row.” From the stage, I scanned the crowd. My smile and joy faded. The front row was full, but he wasn’t there. Later, I saw his coat on the hall bench. He’d never even left the house.

Feb 6
at
8:48 PM

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