The music was loud, and smoke filled the air as guys and gals did the razzamatazz into the wee hours of the morning. Flappers and spats, cigarette girls with great legs and ruby red lips, Betty Grable hair and pearl cigarette holders. A time when tomorrow didn’t matter because you gave it all when unseen stars shined, and booze flowed freely in a basement speak easy. Stolen kisses that stayed on your lips as you sat at your desk typing and watching the clock daydreaming about the coming night and more stolen kisses as you danced and danced and made history without knowing it.
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