The music was loud and fast and young, like what you hear in clubs. I saw my grandfather sitting by himself staring at the dance floor.
"Hi, Grandpa. You doing OK?"
"Oh, yes. I'm just daydreaming. I love this crazy music. What do they call it? The rap. I love it!"
I wasn't the only one who noticed him sitting alone. He also told my dad, my sister and my cousin how much he loved the music when each one interrupted his daydream.
Love Multiplied: Polyamory Explained
8 hours ago