Dad and the Dancer.: a book of two short stories for your pocket.

My dad and the dancer seemed to be friends Staring out from those stage photos from long, long ago. They danced through the years to the sounds of the ballet and never once did I meet her, the pretty ballerina. We think we are alone in our strife and our stress, We think we are the only ones to feel the oppression of civil unrest. But our neighbors feel it too; It is everywhere, the whole world over.