Lucid Waking

Archive for November 23rd, 2009

Possibilities

        Condensation clung to the windows desperately trying to get inside and escape the winter air. Warm festivities continued separated from the night; music, laughter, and light teased the water droplets. Suddenly the balcony doors were flung open and two rosy-cheeked dancers stumbled outside laughing. The man took a deep breath.
        “It’s nice to get a breath of fresh air.”
        The woman laughed and panting, stammered out, “Yes it is.”
        They paused for a moment and the man gently placed his hand on the woman’s. She shifted her hand so it held onto his. When she sighed, her breath came out in a fog before dissipating as she inhaled again.
        “You look lovely tonight,” the man said turning to her.
        She looked down at her pink silk ball gown sheepishly. “Thank you,” she replied.
        He smiled. “Sorry if I embarrassed you.”
        “No,” she said, “it’s nice to get a compliment once in a while.”
        “I’m surprised you don’t get many compliments.”
        “Oh, that’s very kind, but I hardly go out. In fact,” she added before he could reply, “no one around here does.”
        “No one? I don’t think—”
        “It’s true. Only occasionally will someone rich throw a party like this; never more often that once every two years. I’m not sure why they do. It’s quite a large event and the whole town always comes.”
        “Well where I come from, the rich have parties like this fairly often. At least once a month, I believe. But there are so many people that it’s impossible to know where all of the soirées are. I haven’t been to very many and I haven’t been to a masquerade in a long time.”
        “That’s the only parties we throw here.”
        “Why is that?”
        “I don’t know and I don’t really care to know. I for one am glad I don’t have to show my ugly face.”
        “Come now, I’m sure your beautiful.”
        “You’re wrong,” she said sharply.
        “Prove it,” he said, equally strong, but his tone was more playful than hers.
        “No, I can’t,” she cried.
        “What if I show you my face?”
        “Oh no,” she wailed. She sobbed into her gloves and he reached into his pocket for a handkerchief.
        “All right, forget I asked,” he said, disappointed. He put his arm around her shoulder gently and let her sob. The music continued in the hall, but the dancers were just blurs of colors moving about.
        “I’m just being silly,” she said, finally. “But…take off yours first. And promise me you won’t run away when you see my face?”
        “I promise I will stay here.” He reached behind his head and loosened the ribbon to take off his mask. He had very handsome features, two brown eyes, a nose and mouth. She felt embarrassed when she saw him, perhaps at her own inadequacy, perhaps at her attraction. He smiled at her and held her hand. She looked away and took a deep breath before reaching behind her head to loosen her own ribbons.
        While he had expected a vastly misshapen face, what he saw instead was nothing at all. She had no features, but a blank slate that strangely held a world of possibility.
        “Oh, I told you I was hideous. I can’t tell by your expression you think the same thing.”
        “No,” he said. “I was just surprised.”
        She sobbed and put her head in her hands.
        “Surprised because you’re not ugly at all.”
        “Oh, don’t lie.”
        “No, really. There’s nothing ugly about you.”
        “But there’s nothing pretty about my face.” “Name me one thing you think is ugly.”
        “Well, you tell me one thing you think is pretty.” He smiled.
        “The possibility that you can be beautiful.”
        She stopped and sat in thought and then, stood up and looked out over the balcony. “Well, I guess you have a point.”
        He took her hand gently. “It’s always better to see potential than to wave away what you think is a disappointment.”
        She tied her mask back onto her face and then retied his before leading him back into the ballroom, out of the hall, and into the night again.

Author’s Notes on post 338: Well, it’s nice to get back to writing again, especially something substantial. Unfortunately, I have too much to write and too little time, but I’m slowly working on all my projects and keeping my head above water with school work. Just a quick reminder to start thinking about Best of the Blog and maybe buying new prints of old favorites. Thanks for reading!

‘Tis the Season

First order of business, please start reviewing the Best of the Blog so that we can get a modest voter turn out in December. Compared to other years, there aren’t many posts, so don’t be afraid to read and vote. I will be posting more between now and December 26, when I will take a break for final votes and maybe making a small buffer. Based on my schedule, this won’t be often, but keep in mind there will be a little more.

Second, I’ve been working on my print shop. Check it out, spread the word, and buy something! I’m still taking commissions, if you’re interested. Again, any art information can be found here. Any money I raise through this will most likely go towards a trip to the UK that my orchestra is planning on going on, so any help would be appreciated.

That’s it for now. Thanks for hanging in there during my busy months. I’m working hard, rest assured.