Rave Dancefloor, Toronto,  December 1998.

Like it used to be. 

I immediately recognize Darcy. She always smiles like this when she dances. The guy in the very front with the water bottle: the music is so good it is almost too good to bear. The big wooden bead necklaces. Hands in the air. A whistle or two. Zero phones. You know it. This is us.