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Standing there in my floor-length gown Our eyes meet and quickly shift to the ground. I've known him since I was but a child, but our friendship was nothing more; we were young and wild. Now I have grown, and he has too. One as amazing as he there are less of than few. My shoes pinch my feet. My dress is too tight. My heart beats wildly and I feel ready for flight. My hesitant gaze wanders back to him and music graceful as feathers softly begins. His eyes hold mine and he walks shyly to me. Neither of us wishes to be here, yet there is no where we'd rather be. He holds out his hand, a crooked smile on his face. I grin and try to keep steady with the music's elegant grace. The violin hums, the dim candles burn on. At the song's end all previous warriness is gone. People I'd forgotten were present fill the room with applause. The sound echos slightly down the less crowded halls. My sunset-colored dress brushes gently against his feet. We were both tired I could tell, but neither wanted to take a seat. My clothing fit well flowering out near the floor, but no matter what i wear, I knew near him I would soar. We were no one of importance; low rank in social class. But that didn't matter because when I was with him, my shoes were made of glass.
Masquerade
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