JournalWord: Grandeur fun can be had by all with a simple salute.
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The night is young and breathes of celebration, which is usually the excuse for a party; randomly conjured at the stroke of seven. A house, shrouded in lights and lanterns that break through the sunset’s last shimmering rays, entices the locals to dress up in their most pompous dresses and their newest suits. Couples and groups of arm-linked friends, gather their skirts and neckties, and set off to spend the hours before midnight distracting themselves from plagues and evils in the uninterrupted sway of music and good company.
Alice arrives at the iron gates alone and late. She enters and smiles at the gatekeepers, who are tipping back their heads to a shot of some sort. A man behind a table offers her a curvaceous glass of a crystal drink, and she politely reaches for the glass’s stem.
Her voluminous skirt is bunched up in her fists as she climbs the stairs to the party in her new shoes. However, as soon as she catches a glimpse of the laughter and dancing, Alice is immediately swept into someone’s arms and swirling. She sips her drink and places it on a platter, balanced on the palm of a dazed waiter. Her heels trip and slide in an attempt to right herself from her capture, and when she looks up, she’s welcomed with a lopsided smile from her wild-haired cousin.
“Hey Alice,” he greets, obviously having indulged the punch. “Care to dance?”
He doesn't wait for an answer, instead twirling her into the heart of the dance floor on skipping feet. They laugh at their clumsy waltz, like children in a daisy field. Just as they finish a sluggish spin, her hands are lifted from her cousin’s and she’s faced by a young woman, face rosy of drink and hair falling out of its pinned curls. “Hey,” she giggles, and they loop their arms over their heads, spinning as fast as they can in the press of joyous and swaying dancers.
Alice has to close her eyes in the rotations, for fear of collapsing in the energy, instead adding her own howls of laughter to the flutter of high-spirited guests. She doesn't even notice the change of hands or the “Hey” initiating a switch of partners. She prances with her alien partner, sharing blinded smiles as they kick up their feet in the small space between them.
The orchestra pauses to end a song, however the break doesn't stop the buzz of the room. Alice’s partner bows and grins a farewell, picking up another set of hands from one of the dancers beside him. Everyone shifts, readying themselves for another round. Alice’s next partner gently picks up her hands, beams a friendly greeting and starts a frolic she isn't accustomed to.
Her toes hop from under her layers of skirts to the unknown rhythm and her heel accidentally stomps onto his toes. She apologizes furiously, ashamed in ruining her partner’s happy mood with a stab of her new shoes. He shakes his head, a grimace under a smile plastered on by a couple chugs of the punch. “Don’t worry,” he slurs, definitely intoxicated. “Some men would pay to have a young woman step all over them,” he assures with a chuckle to brighten up her face.
Others like Alice are pulled from the door and asked to join the jig. Faces blur and conversations dull down to giggles and greetings of new partners. Evils are expelled at every toss of the sparkling punch and fresh initiation of dance. Everyone dances, and in the midst of the sashaying and blissful guffaws of glee, glasses clink with new arrivals.
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I like a little silly story. They can really bring a little silly smile :)
