Masquerade

It is a feat to feel alone in such an atmosphere as this, yet one she easily manages. Red lips do smile, parting softly in quiet conversation with those she knows of who cross her path. The music goes on as she chooses which invitation to accept, not allowing just any hand to embrace her tonight. A dance, a story shared, every moment spent with this room full of beautiful dreamers savored to stash away until the next occasion.

For when the last note is played and the last person leaves, when the gloves and shoes come off to be stowed away safely, when the mask is finally removed to be placed upon its shelf, the maiden finds herself alone once more, seated in her window. Even the moon is a fairweather friend tonight.