Homecoming Night


A long-lost ficleteer trying to take a shot at writing once again.

As I walked around the mall in my hometown tonight, I noticed teenagers in formal dress everywhere I looked. It must be homecoming night, I thought to myself.


I remember my school dances in terms of emotions.

The anticipation I felt as I spent half the day showering, shaving, perfecting my makeup, and styling my hair.

The anxiety I felt as I rode to the dance.

The excitement I felt as I saw how adorable whoever I was crushing on looked in their suit.

Then the disappointment I felt when he'd dance with someone else.


I got pretty good at being a wallflower at those school dances. I liked to observe everyone else. I was always quiet and no one knew how to respond to "the quiet girl," so I mainly kept to myself. I'd watch happy couples dance all around me and I'd long to have someone's arms wrapped around me while we swayed to slow music.


And then every time, inevitably, the tall nerdy guy no one liked would walk over to me awkwardly and ask me to dance. And I'd oblige because why the hell not?


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