Stepping
out of the carriage, I take a moment to stare at this grand palace, but only a
moment. It would not be seemly to appear late, or to hold up the next arriving
guest. I sweep up the stairs, and find my way through the palace to the grand
hall, already filled with wonderful music and dancing couples. The footmen
announce my arrival as soon as the song is over, and everyone takes a moment to
bow to me, the guest of honor, as I carefully make my way over to the dance
floor. Every young man my age is expected to take a dance with me, and I am
soon swinging from arm to arm, dancing gracefully, sweeping around the room in
my beautiful ball gown, seemingly made of leaves and vines. The great crystal
chandelier floats above us in a sky made of gold and pink clouds. Everything
here is perfect, and the music is simply grand. It is easy to dance to such
tunes, my body easily swaying and molding to the shapes the sounds dictate to
me. How beautiful this evening is, surrounded by friends, meeting beautiful
strangers, and taking part in the festivities. But yet, something seems to
flicker at the edges of my vision. Something is changing, something important.
For a while, I cannot remember, but then, I glance at the ceiling. It is
changing. The wonder sky painted upon it is fading, is changing. No longer the
marvelous colors of the sunset sky, it is fading into greys and dark blues. As
soon as I realize this, everything else starts to change as well. The guests
take their leave, and fade into the air. The footmen announce the next song,
but all I hear is a light breeze, rustling through the trees. I stand, and
slowly turn, surveying my new surroundings. I am merely standing in an orchard,
the dead leaves rustling under my feet. The sun has just set, and in the
twilight, I can see my plain brown and green dress. Maybe I was never in a
ballroom, maybe I never danced with those people, and maybe I never heard that
glorious music: but in my mind, I hold those memories, memories of a dance that
had never truly happened.
