She skipped lightly through the grass, her hair bouncing and the breeze flouncing her long skirt.
For as much as she was lost in her thoughts of the moment, what she had found was a rhythm of life which seemed perfect in so many ways. And the reason had suddenly become clear:
All her life, she had marched to a drumbeat given to her by someone. It wasn’t until she began to make her own music that she found her rhythm.
And it was the man she called Daddy who had opened her ears.
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