It wasn't a year. Not exactly. A year had been a more formal occasion with a party and guests and dressing up and people doing bows and curtseys and Willow worrying about whether, if she had food stuck in her teeth, would anyone let her know or would they be too polite to mention it or, worse, would they think it was some kind of new fashion craze ( Read more... )

Willow was tired. This was to be expected. It had been a long day which had followed some long weeks and months of planning and prep and unfortunately a few false positives starts. But finally it was over, and Willow could feel tired in an accomplished and somewhat disheveled way ( Read more... )