Masquerade

Romance Story written by Dnavarre on Thursday 27, January 2011

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Description
This year's prom theme is a Masquerade, and it got me thinking.

Overall Rating: 93.76%

This writing has been rated by 5 members, resulting in a rating of 93.76% overall. Below is a breakdown of these results:

Concept/Plot:94.8%
Imagery:94.4%
Spelling & Grammar:90.8%
Flow/Rhythm:94%
Vocabulary:94.8%
Her breath was clean of substance and her feet graceful. The men and women both danced admirably, twirling and laughing joyfully in the sheer anonymity of it all. None kept their partners for long, losing their loved ones in the crowd to somebody else, putting trust in their fellow masqueraders. The switching of the partners was sudden, an ebb and flow that seemed to synonymously push away one and draw another. Each was a droplet in a stream. She, with her gradient white mask with a bump of a nose, was neither the best dancer, nor the worst. Lost in the crowd, she was, torn apart from her friends the very moment her feet touched the inside of the room. Anyone with an eye could see that this was not to be compared with the masquerades of the past. The room they spun in was tall, yes, but not a stairway or balcony in sight. The music playing was a throwback as well, but could not compare to the original. As she went along with the river, her arms fell onto a man with by far the best dress, all black and suave with a certain...poignant royalty in his sleeves, all the way to his boots. She had to look up to see the noble's mask the color of the silver moon, a mask with an ingrained smile and empty, crater-like eyes. "My word," he said, "no wonder God hasn't found you, his most beautiful creation, hiding in this ball's dance room as you are." She was graceful enough to blush. "My dancer is kind to say so," she replied. Some of the other dancers were breaking and forming with another partner, but the man kept his prize. "Your feet are so sleek and smooth, you must have simply walked out of Heaven, knowing the other angels wouldn't hear your unlucky escape." She giggled beautifully, moving closer so that their dance was just so. "Unlucky, sir?" "Unlucky, yes. Anybody would be most unlucky to lose the person on which the rest of the angels are based. God has tried and tried to reproduce your beauty, and has so far failed in every attempt." For that, she had no reply but to hold the dance another turn. "And with you found lost, the Heavens have darkened, my dear," he continued, "for they now weep with the strength of God's cries themselves. Listen, my dear, to the rage that escapes our great God, the same as you did." The band had stopped, was preparing another song, and great bouts of thunder could be seen accompanying the flashes of light through the windows. The downpour pounded on the windows. "And there he is, knocking on the window, waiting for your sweet, sweet return. A rejoicing unlike any before, even the creation of this world, will be had...in the Heavens." "And what of here?" she inquired, pressing her head against the masked man's chest. "We? We simple men will cry and drink and sleep away our sorrows, only to have your light be the only one in our dreams, dimming all others into nothing but moths in the sun's rays." She looked up at him, trying to think of a compliment as grand as he was giving her. He did not give her a chance. "And your eyes!" he blurted, "Lord, your eyes are the eight wonder of the world!" She laughed. "You can barely see my eyes," she pointed out, "they are masked." "Even so," he shrugged, motioning her comment off, "the glimpse I am getting is enough to bring the wind to a halt, to make the Earth compose a ballad to your beauty, and the blue in them as endless as the sky." "What is in this infinity in my eyes?" she asked, stretching her neck upwards so their lips were inches apart. "Love," he answered, and kissed her. "The Love that God had to learn from you in order to give it to us. The Love that the sun gives to every inch in the world. It is the deepest Love itself, a treasure known to every person, great and small, and hidden away in the Heavens, kept from us until you came down. The Heavens mourn their loss." "Will you turn me in?" she asked, playing along. "Not for anything. Not for any other woman, not for anything any woman can give, nor for even the grace of God. God does not know that I already have it, and that she is lost in the world he created, masked and dancing with one so low and unworthy." "God's Grace is here," she said, "and willing to spread her Love." "I warn you, I'm not willing to share it with anyone else," he said. "Then it seems I am meant for only one." She stretched up, lifted his mask, and kissed him.
   

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Comments

    Very nicely done, a well written piece.

    I'll have to bring my girlfriend over to read it, she loves this kind of stuff.

    And then she will proceed to be angry that i'm not all that romantic, and cut off the lovin that i've been looking forward to all week........You know what, on second thought I don't think I will show her this.

    Just kidding well done.
    Excellently done. So evocative of an age long gone.

    A pleasure from the first word to the last.
    This was amazing! I loved it. It was beautifully written and the imagery was incredible. It really was a joy to read...so romantic. The images conjured up whilst reading this reminded me of a Victoria Francis painting i love. I'd really like to hear more of this.
    "Lord, your eyes are the eight wonder of the world!" - eighth wonder of the world.

    That said, very very good.
    Well, you young romantic. Very well done, Dn, very well done.