"It wasn't my fault. If we are late, it's your doing."
"We can't even see the parade from here" I complained, "Why even bother coming if you can't see a damn thing!"
Hands on my waist steadily pushed me forward in the available space until I reluctantly had to admit the view was not quite as limited as I may have made out. Whistling loudly at the group marching past, competing music and shouting ringing in my ears, I barely caught the words but felt the teasing hands digging at my ribs.
"Stay out of the corner next Mardi Gras."
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