Dear Adelaide,

25

Flickers cascade over rainbow vision locked in time. The dance of ghosts.

Two eyes flicker open only to find themselves ducking behind another pair. Two dark almond holes for looking through.

My heart beat itself awake. I had no memory of how it was I'd got to standing there. Or why there was music playing. Or how my eyes had become shut in the first place. I stood in a dazed confusion, with hardly even the knowledge to know my own name.

Who were the people standing in fanciful gowns and split-tail garbs with masked faces, swirling to gramophonic melodies? Dancing with their arms atop one another making delicate spins around the room. As revolving planets moving to music.

The room around me buzzed like an old cassette, static film showing through masked and slotted eyes.

I'd seen this parlor once before. But where did it belong to?

And there was music playing.

I brought a hand up dizzily to my forehead, only to find that the skin there had hardened like stone. I jumped and brought back my fingers up to check again, finding some thick hardened plaster there. A mask.

My vision danced around the room as the pulsing in my veins swayed to the orchestral glow of the music. The room was adorned in elaborate decorations. Twirling golden ribbons, ribbons, hung from the lighting, along with rose pink gems that produced the look of blossoming flowers. The two colors were strewn elegantly about the place, in perfectly agreeable cohorts with each other. And marble, marble, marble.

My eyes became locked on the party goers, and their hidden faces, which would look to me nearly every time they rounded their partners. They were all hidden behind heavily ornamented masks, of every shade imaginable. It was a magnificent sight to see. Perhaps I thought, I had woken into a dream, with no need to remember who I was or how I'd gotten here.

I waltzed among them, through them, beside them. Ladies and gentlemen, turning to me and bow or smile. It got me into thinking that perhaps, in this world, I was a queen of sorts, or a very special person.

My own body was adorned in a flowing golden dress. A dress that had the potential of becoming a ball-gown, of sorts, but entirely tasteful. Dressed in jewels that ran down the bodice and met the skirt like fallen raindrops. Golden fabric moving beneath me, as gently waving wisps of honey.

A golden honey dance.

This place, this dream was entirely pleasant. I got to thinking for the split of a moment, that it wasn't a dream at all. Something telling me to wake up. Wake up. But the thought was fleeting as quickly as it came.

Parlor floors, these parlor floors.

I knew this place. Perhaps, if I'd been able to see it without all the people and decorations, I might have known. But I didn't mind. The people and the decorations were lovely. In fact, I preferred them.

I smiled when my mind recalled it was a birthday party. A very special birthday party of sorts. An important one. "There's never been a more important day." I grinned at the thought as it spoke aloud in my mind. Although, the voice surely couldn't have been my own. What a charming birthday party. And with so many people. All dressed up in crinkling gowns, pearls, and coat-tails, and top hats. But what were they celebrating? Or who?

My nostrils tinged a moment, with a familiar smell. Smoke? It simmered away as my eyes rested again on the sparkle and twirl of the sight ahead of me. My sights glowed with the familiar essence of the room. A perfect room for dancing. For a twirling dance with feet bundled in pointe shoes. I could nearly feel the golden room spinning around me as I imagined it.