From the day
Perspective: The Teenager · Sight
The streetlights catch the sequins on my straight-cut chemise, casting sharp glints against my bobbed hair as I dodge a puddle on my way to the dance hall. Pops is scowling at the morning paper, grumbling about how the Lenin faction wins Italian socialism and a big split is now inevitable, but I only care that I’ve pinned my cloche hat just right. This new rayon dress is truly the bee’s knees, fluttering around my T-strap heels as I hum "Whispering" under my breath. The world is changing faster than the headlines can keep up, and as long as there’s jazz playing, Moscow can wait.