58_Winds of Change

Mike

The was almost empty now. Assistants packed up folding chairs and rolled away racks of spare lighting. The scattered guests who remained lingered in clusters near the exits, soft murmurs drifting across polished concrete floors.

But all I saw was Eloise.

She stood near the centre plinth, her slender shoulders squared despite her visible exhaustion. Her hair, pinned back elegantly earlier, now curled in wild wisps around her flushed face. She was laughing softly at ...