Ballroom Party

bad dream

Ballroom

   Dresses and suits

      Pressed seams

         Pressed smiles

     And campaign slogans

   Fill the room

 

Confetti and streamers

   Balloons candlelight

      Voices music laughter

         All of these

      Fill the air

 

   Intoxicating…

The two women sit at a table discussing the country, the economy the state of affairs, in a hushed tone, over their mixed drinks. Alcohol and perfume the fragrance of the evening, and the conversation was going the way of the drinks, steadily descending to the point of empty.

Drained of hope, bright perspective depleted, empty glass empty outlook in this room feigning hope.

The olive on the bottom of the ornate cup, speared with a bright curving plastic harpoon, the bow on the package was that both were hungry. They left the hose knowing their children were hungry, and would remain that way for an unknown time.

The lure of this place was the drinks, the smiles, and the suits. Each one represented hope or change or a cheap ticket out of this drained glass. So the conversation circled this fact, carrion birds forced by circumstance, never completely admitting that each remark about a smile or stature or the price of the suit was simply looking for some way to step in.

Some reason to erase space and approach, eradicate awkwardness with casual conversation. Flirt smile and seal the future of a family; the golden ticket out of a dreary strained existence.

Glasses accumulate

   On the expensive table cloth

      While bolstered imaginations

         Deflate rapidly

      Girth vanishing

   Until a sedate form of

Acceptance settles

   On the two

 

      Perhaps things won’t change…

Then a smile cuts through the crowd like a lamp through fog catching the attention of the two. This man so casually weaves though the sea of onlookers in his spotless finely fitted suit, glazing the eyes of the audience around him with the confidence radiating from every word spoken. He was the vision of success influence power and money, down to each flawlessly placed hair, and the crowd couldn’t wait to meet his every expectation and request.

Some might call it infatuation, others would utter something along the lines of puppy dog love, but this was pure unadulterated hero worship. He was the golden calf, the city on the hill he was the answer to every unspeakable question.

And his gaze landed on the two women seated at the table coated in ornate glasses, with the candles run low, and eyes bleary from depressants and disillusionment.

For some reason the clamor around him was meaningless, but these two needed his focus, his attention. So with a casual comment he dismisses those around him, causing them to disperse and return to their own musings, return to their buzzing circles.

He casually approaches the table, evaluating the two as he does so, and comes to a stop with a well executed introduction. They, the two women, did not need this but were taken by the mere courtesy eyes welling up with the emotion that had so recently dwindled. They were awe struck and in love.

 But one of the two fell out of love

   Nearly instantly

      Perhaps she saw the seam

         Or maybe it was more subtle

      Something behind the eyes

   In the smile

The casual practiced pattern

   Of his speech

 

      On the other hand

         To the other woman

      He was the answer

   He was perfection realized

Immaculate in human form

 

   He was charisma embodied…

Every word that fell from his lips swayed her emotions, sending reverberations through her bringing life to her dwindling dreams. She could see hope in his eyes in his movements in his words. So the conversation continued and she voiced some of her fears and qualms with the state of events, constantly reassuring him that none of the blame was his only the solution.

All the while the second woman watched over her glass, constantly silent, merely observing.

The man leaned in as the wooed woman began to describe her situation. The hungry mouths at home and the constant stress of supporting her family and he seemed so moved by her story, concern dominating his handsome face. He rested his hand on the table, between the drained containers, palm down with fingers spread.

Slips of paper began to fall from his sleeve resting on the back of his hand, spilling onto the table. The woman in love picked up one of the slips, examining the print, and to her shock she found that they were food vouchers.  Each one guaranteed a meal for her emaciating family, and the slips kept falling.

Tears filled the woman’s eyes and the man took a seat beside her, taking her hand in his, now that the paper had stopped.  He was whispering into her ear and she was smiling and giggling, simply relishing this abundant attention. At the peak of the conversation he took her by the wrist and pulled her onto his lap still whispering the sweet nothings into her willing ear.

The observer remained silent despite her growing unease.

   While the smitten crossed her legs as she was placed

      And he was still speaking

         Though the words lost their meaning

      Long ago if they ever had any

 

   But his finger

Was toying with the high heeled shoe

   She had chosen for this occasion

      Running along the side

         Playing with the strap

      That dissected the top of her foot

   Wandering and gently distracting

 

Until, for no reason,

   He stood and disappeared into the crowd…

Driven mad by her love the woman abandoned shakily got to her feet, and rapidly followed while the unsure woman watched her go in confusion. The woman controlled by loves delirium stumbled with every step she took, and when her companion looked down she discovered that her friend left a trail of crimson. She had hurt her foot somehow. The same one the man had been stroking. There were cuts all along the side of her shoe, as if his finger was tipped with a razor, and she was bleeding from the center of the cuts, the deepest lacerations.

She looked from her injured friend to the vouchers, and then silently she began to fill her purse. After a moment, once the bag was near overflowing, she rose and followed suit.

Frantically the dejected one pushed and shoved her way through the crowd, catching glimpses of the man but he seemed to be growing more distant. It was as if the partygoers were parting for him, making a path, while they constantly ignored her and her plight. Then as quickly as he appeared she lost him in the sea of faces. Just as the tears began to fill her eyes she saw a door open on the wall closest to her, and she knew, simply knew, that was where he had gone.

Her fingers wrapped around the glass knob, twisted, and the suspicious one watched her disappear behind the door. She waited a moment looking from the exit to this other door and back again. Her indecision was all consuming with the vouchers ready to be spent; her family in need of food, but her friend was hurt and evidently in hysterics. She was in no state to be left alone.

In the end she too found herself reaching for the doorknob and disappearing behind the door.

Driven to delirium by infatuation the injured woman stumbled past the door

She needed to find him

   Needed to hear his voice

      She could no longer

         Imagine a life without him

      And the hallway seemed endless

 

   The dark and twisting

Corridor had no other doorways

   And seemed to turn at will

      Leading her farther and farther down

         The air became chilled

      And the lights were farther and farther apart

   She was being swallowed in blackness

And embalmed in the cold

   But her burning desire

      Drover her around each new corner

         The simple need to touch him

 

      If only once more…

There was finally a room at the end of the serpentine hall, a blue office, and there stood her knight in suit and tie. She hobbled forward and the room came into full sight. He was standing in front of a desk staring into a small mirror mounted on the wall. The desk was bare except for a lamp but the wall above the desk top, framing the mirror, was coated with masks.

Each one as a different version of his face, each one displaying a different emotion, all staring back at him with eyes open and mouths trapped in mid motion.

He was staring into the mirror as she approached, but before she could announce her presence he reached up placing his fingertips on his forehead, his thumb just beneath his cheek bone, and removed his face. He gently hung it on a bare peg next to the mirror.

The woman in love screamed and rushed into the office, stopping just inside the door. She grabbed her knight by the shoulders, turning him to face her, and demanded, through sobs, an explanation.  But there was nothing behind his mask. There was a void, a black expanse and he threw her hands off his shoulders in anger.

The faceless thing began to make gestures as if it was speaking, yelling, as if it could explain the reason for its condition. The reason for everything but she was in horror and could not understand the thing. This horror waving its arms at her, and slowly she began to back away, her fingers creeping to her mouth in fear. The tears were seeping from her eyes spilling down her cheeks.

It hung its head for a moment, arms going limp, and then slowly approached her. It reached out its hand, gently wiping a tear from her eye, and cupped her head in his hand.

The woman in pursuit rounded the corner

   Just as he cupped the weeping woman’s face

      Her friend tried to yell but was grabbed

         And pulled backwards

      Into the hallway

   Everything turned to black

Fading out to

   The sounds of weeping

      A door closing

        And a short struggle

05/24/2012 - 05/26/2012

Author's Note

So I don’t have dreams very often, but I went home the other day and I was finally able to go to sleep, somewhere around noon, I had this very vivid dream just as I was falling asleep. The entire thing only seemed to take about five minutes, but it turned into this. I tried to keep all the details and emotions, but I lost the conversations. I couldn’t remember them. But the dream stuck with me so I figured I should write it down. All in all I hope this isn’t too weird, or too long, and can’t wait to hear your thoughts!

Reviews

[...]

Wow! That's an intensely vivid dream. I'm sure it has some significance. As a reader, I can relate this to the sorts of things that go on in the world of politics. The innocent are first lured and then exploited. I am also left wondering about this human experience called "falling in love". It's so intriguing. Maybe I'll truly understand it one day. Nevertheless, this is superbly written. The structure is extremely innovative and you blend prose and poetry rather skillfully.