In an instant, memories of her whirl around my brain, like microfiche floating on the breeze of a slow, sweet capriccio. Images of a curly-haired little girl waxing her sisters’ truck with us. Twists and flips in the air while she preformed the most dazzling acrobatics in high school in front of lively, cheering crowds. A visit to Italy when she was in college, a Facetime chat from her when she moved to Australia. The soft quietness of calmly rocking back and forth with her first baby niece in her arms days after she was born. A smiling lady introducing her boyfriend. A laughing lady sharing the news of their engagement over the phone.

And so many memories in between. I guess that’s what you get when you met your best friend in high school and her little sister, turns out, is the bees knees.

The night we met for their engagement session, we were dodging the rain while simultaneously battling the humidity and racing the darkness. It was fairly righteous. Light and fun, moody and simmer, with just a touch of tumbling and a hearty handfull of raindrops to even it all out.

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