I’d left Laura sat on the steps by the bank for all of two minutes– when I returned she was out on the sidewalk, grinning like nothing else. Her limbs jerked and waved in that carefree way of dancing that kids have, head thrown back like she wanted to soak up the sunlight and grow.
The guy smiled, told her she “oughta be on the stage with moves like that”.
Dad always said that if a busker makes you stop, you owe him a buck; he makes you dance, you owe him ten.
I tipped him a twenty before we left.
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