Masquerade

She gathered her white dress in her delicate hands and peeped into the room through the crack. A hundred people, at the least, all dancing and talking, hands around each other’s waists, laughing, smiling, masks covering their eyes. Red velvet curtains draped the floor length windows and out beyond, the moon shone. It illuminated the garden outside, gently bathing the flowers and trees in its dim glow. A breeze ruffled outside, and blew in through the open windows. It sent a chill around the room. She looked up at the grand clock on the back wall of the giant hall. It was 10:23. It was the right time. She slid the silvery mask over her face. With a sigh and a smile, she straightened her shoulders, then slipped quietly through the doors.